


Scars and Ink

by chelome



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Tattoo Artist Steve, Tattoo Shop AU, recovering bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 10:55:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4302099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chelome/pseuds/chelome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky's time in the army left him with nothing except a deformed arm and enough nightmares to keep him terrified of closing his eyes. Now that he's back home, Bucky's struggling to take the broken pieces and build some sort of life.</p><p>But just maybe that punk Steve Rogers can help him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Bucky woke with a scream. Heart pounding he looked wildly around and took in the sight of his dreary beige walls while he tried to push away the memories awakened by his nightmare. It was getting tougher and tougher to do every time. The phantom pain of shrapnel tearing its way through his arm and the shrieks of his men lingered with him as he dragged himself awake. 

God he hadn’t even realized he fell asleep, must have passed out on the lumpy sofa in his living room while watching that stupid cooking show. Bucky groaned as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Even now, months after he’d been discharged, Bucky couldn’t so much as shut them without being back there. Haunted by the images of his whole world being ripped apart in a blaze of fire. 

He pushed himself up on the coach and cursed as the muscles in his bad arm cramped in protest of the shitty sleeping arrangements. With a shaky hand, Bucky pushed his sweaty hair out of his face and grabbed for the phone he left on the coffee table to check the time.

9:15 pm

And 5 missed calls from Natasha.

He turned off his phone and tossed it onto the cushion next to him. Bucky knows Natasha’s going to rip him a new one next time he sees her but he just can’t deal with it right now. Still feeling unsettled, he threw on his dark hoodie and grabbed his keys. Bucky needed to get the fuck out of this prison of a room and get some fresh air. Maybe then it wouldn’t hurt so much to breath.

...

Steve’s heart raced as his lungs constricted. The blow had him doubled over clutching at his side while his pathetic fucked up lungs struggled to suck in air. Every breath he managed to wheeze in brought on a sharp pain, fractured rib again. 

As soon as he could stomach it, Steve righted himself and held up his fists. He’d only barely raised his arms when the short chubby one hit him square in the jaw and sent him crashing down onto the hard asphalt. His ears rang violently and Steve got on his hands and knees to spit the blood out of his mouth. He cursed himself as he imagined the lecture he was going to get from Sam when he showed up at the apartment with a fresh bruise on his face. He always swore that Steve was going to get himself killed one of these days. Constantly argued that Steve must either have a serious death wish or was the biggest masochist he had ever met. Truth was Steve hated getting beat up. Hated having to feel his body crumple and fail him over and over again. Hated the way people stared at him with pity whenever they caught site of the bruises. But what choice did he have?

Like tonight, Steve had just closed up shop after his last session ran late and was walking home. He made it past the shitty bar a few blocks from his house when he saw two clearly inebriated creeps harassing a woman. He couldn’t just walk away and do nothing so instead he strode into the alley. 

“Hey! Leave the lady alone!” Steve yelled, pissed off. 

The one grabbing her arm turned towards him with a scowl, “This is none of your fucking business you fucking f-”

Steve had cut off his last word with a quick knee to the groin. He doubled over with a high pitched moan, releasing the girl as he clutched his injured family jewels. The woman took off the second he let go and Steve only got to enjoy a satisfied smirk for a second before creep #2 stepped up to bust his rib. 

So that’s how Steve found himself, yet again, bleeding in a dark alley. And Sam could nag all he wants but Steve would gladly take a few punches if it meant that poor lady made it away alright. Swiping the blood from his mouth, Steve managed to stumble back onto his feet.

“Fucking hell this bastard does not know how to stay down,” muttered the taller of the pair.

The short ugly one he kneed gave him a hard shove into the brick wall sending Steve crashing back onto the ground. Once he was down, the two started kicking and it took all of Steve’s energy just to cover his head with his skinny arms. Steve could feel the bone deep bruises already beginning to form. One swift boot caught him straight in the ribs and he had to fight against the violent wave of nausea. Probably definitely broken now. For what felt like an eternity, blows kept raining down on him and Steve prayed that they would get tired soon or he’d at least pass out.

Then suddenly there was a yell and the kicking stopped. Steve looked up to see that somebody else had joined the fight. In the dimly lit alley, all Steve could make out was a figure in a baggy hoodie slamming one of his attackers in the wall and swiftly twisting his arm back until Steve heard a sickening pop and the bloodcurdling shrieks that followed.

“What the-”

The other guy barely had time to register what was happening before Steve’s rescuer was on him. He landed a few impossibly fast jabs that left the bastard reeling and then finished it off with a roundhouse kick that sent him flying. It was over in the blink of an eye and next thing Steve knew the guy was kneeling in front of him and helping him sit up.

Steve’s head swam and a cold panic began to sink in as his breaths came in quick and shallow. The worried face in front of him appeared to be speaking but Steve couldn’t register anything over the ringing in his ears. His Good Samaritan ninja stared at him with blue gray eyes and he looked like he hadn’t bathed in a week with messy long brown hair and a scruffy beard. Even with his vision blurring and every inch of his body aching, Steve’s spinning mind still found time to point out to him just how hot his savior was, despite the whole hobo vibe. The man gently grabbed his face and continued to mouth words that he could not make out. Steve struggled to focus but his lungs were frantically trying and failing to pump in oxygen and darkness began to creep in.

…

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. No this can’t be fucking happening,” Bucky frantically shook the skinny man as those startlingly blue eyes fell close. 

“No, no stay with me.” He softly pleaded as his heart raced. Every nerve in his body was still humming with energy from the fight. Adrenaline pumping through his veins meant that he didn’t even feel the painful ache that had been his enduring companion ever since he ruined his arm. 

The blonde remained unresponsive. Bucky pushed the hair out of his face as he thought quickly. This kid needed to get to the hospital fast and of course he left his damn phone back in the apartment. He could go get one from the bar but judging by the chaotic sounds pouring out of the door this guy could be dead before he managed to get somebody’s attention. 

Not sure what else to do, Bucky jumped to his feet and picked up the blonde. God he couldn’t have been more than 90 pounds, nothing but skin and bone. He held him as gently as possible and started to book it down the empty street. There was a hospital only a few blocks south of here and Bucky was praying that he could get this scrawny stranger there in time. 

As he hurried along, he kept glancing down at the man in his arms to make sure he was still breathing. Bucky cringed as the brilliant purple bruises began to form on the blonde’s delicate features. It made for a gruesome sight along with the bright red blood pouring from his nose and busted lip. Seeing the blood brought back the ghostly images of his dream and Bucky thought about what a crazy fucked up turn of events this night had been. 

Just a few moments ago, he’d been heading back to his apartment when a sobbing woman had come barreling around the corner. Bucky had tried to duck his head and keep out of her way but she had grabbed his arm before he could slink by. The touch had startled him and he had been pretty proud of himself at the time for simply lurching away from her grip and keeping his clenched fists firmly lodged in his pocket. Bucky had scowled but stopped when he realized that he actually knew her. She was a waitress at his favorite diner (would always slip him a piece of pie with a wink when he sat there for hours on the nights that his memories kept him awake). She frantically told him about this guy who was getting the shit beat out of him for saving her from two drunk creeps. Bucky had hurried to the fight with way more eagerness than he was comfortable admitting.

Thankfully, he made it to the hospital in a matter of minutes. Hurrying through the glass doors of the ER, Bucky shouted for help and was met by a flurry of nurses who whisked the blonde stranger away. Bucky planted himself in one of those painfully uncomfortable plastic chairs determined to wait and see if the guy would be okay. Bucky really could not believe this idiot he had to rescue. How the hell did he think he could take on two huge dudes all by himself? Bucky really wasn’t sure if he was the bravest bastard he ever met or just an idiot but he was currently favoring the latter. 

He rubbed his face with a tired sigh. Without the distraction of getting the blonde here, Bucky was having trouble fighting the cold nausea settling in to his gut. He didn’t want to think about how during that fight he had felt more alive than he had in months. Didn’t want to think about how the burn of his muscle, the sharp stench of blood, and the feel of a body giving way under the force of his blows had brought him a beautiful sense of clarity.

The chaos of the ER was all around him. Patients kept pouring in. Their cries of pain were drowning out everything. The chemical stench of the hospital was absolutely suffocating bringing him back to those early days after it all went to hell. Learning that he was broken and useless. All while reliving the horror every time he closed his eyes. 

Bucky clenched the armrests with white knuckles as the memories flooded over him.  
Panic began to seize his lungs and fill his stomach with ice. It was all too much. Too many people. He felt exposed. Soon even the cries of the patients were drowned out by the thunderous pounding of his heart. Bucky had to get out of here. With stiff limbs, he ran from the waiting room and into the dark street outside. 

It wouldn’t be until much later when he was surrounded by his plain empty walls and could breathe that he would curse himself for not at least getting that idiot's name. Bucky just hoped he was okay because the world sure as hell needs a few more idiots like him around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first attempt at fanfic so please please please leave comments and let me know what you think :)
> 
> Next chapter should be up fairly soon.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a bit longer than the last. Hope you enjoy! And please let me know what you think :)

Steve chugged down the last of his Starbucks before pushing through the door. He winced and sucked in a sharp breath as the movement caused his still healing ribs to ache. Walking up to the front counter, he tossed his empty cup away and did his best to keep the pain from showing on his face. Peggy, his partner, had already come in earlier to open up and was busy going through paperwork. 

“Good morning,” she smiled in greeting at him. Peggy looked impeccable as always, making Steve feel rather gross in his baggy sweater and the beanie he tossed on to cover up his bed hair. Meanwhile, Peggy had her hair perfectly curled and with her bright red lipstick she almost looked like a classic pin up girl. The whole prim and proper look though was delightfully shattered by the short blouse that showed off her full sleeves, a good portion of which was Steve’s own work. 

“Mornin,” Steve said as he plopped his messenger bag onto the desk. 

Steve and Peggy had met back when they were both apprenticing at the same shop. They were fast friends and when Peggy suggested they open up their own place, Steve immediately jumped at the chance. He couldn’t imagine a better person to work with, Peggy was unbelievably talented and one of the best people he knew. Plus she had all the people skills Steve lacked. 

“Any plans tonight?” she asked setting down the forms she was organizing. “Me and Ang are going out with a couple of her mates. We’re planning on checking out that new club downtown. You should come with.”

Steve half smiled back thinking about all the other times they had managed to drag him out in the past, “You know I can’t dance and I don’t think Angie wants me awkwardly hovering while she’s trying to hang out with her friends.” 

“Oh please, she utterly adores you” Peggy said rolling her eyes. “Besides, her friend Peter from the play is going to be there!”

Steve scoffed, “I see now. You know I am perfectly capable of getting a date all on my own.”

Peggy raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow, “Really? Could have fooled me.” 

“Listen, I really don’t need you meddling in my love life,” Steve said as he pushed his glasses back up his nose. “Besides I’ve got stuff I need to work on tonight.”

Peggy sighed and grabbed his hand, “I just don’t want you dying alone surrounded by your thirty cats, Steven.”

“We’ve been over this before, Peg” Steve said solemnly. “I’m more of a dog person.”

“How could I forget,” Peggy laughed and pulled him in for a quick peck on the cheek, “But seriously, Steve, you need to learn to have some fun every once in a while. I worry about you working yourself to death.”

Steve just rolled his eyes, “So what’s the schedule like today?” 

Peggy smirked, “Packed again. Ever since you finished Stark’s piece he’s been waltzing around and showing it off to everyone he meets.”

Steve chuckled. A few months ago Peggy and Steve both nearly had a heart attack when THE Tony Stark strolled into their tiny shop. The billionaire had found out about their place because apparently Peggy’s girlfriend sometimes works on charity projects with Pepper Potts. So when Miss Potts’ boyfriend had been looking for an artist Angie suggested them. He wanted a chest piece that was meant to be a small copy of his latest “world changing” invention so Steve took him on because hyper realistic tattoos were his specialty while Peggy did more abstract and colorful designs. The star struck feeling soon faded because Tony Stark was without a doubt the most difficult client he had ever had. The work was actually not too complicated but Stark was like a hyperactive puppy. Kept trying to play with the equipment, would talk Steve’s ear off about that damn arc reactor thing, and the tattoo ended up taking twice as long as it should have because Stark was incapable of sitting still for more than a few minutes. Steve barely had the patience to survive the experience but at the end of it all Stark had drastically overpaid and all the publicity he was giving them was unbelievable. They’ve been practically booked solid ever since. 

Steve shook his head with a grin, “God bless that bastard.”

The bell at the door rang and they both turned to see their receptionist and part time piercist, Darcy, strolling in holding her coffee.

“Holy shit,” she said glancing at her watch. “I’m only 15 minutes late today. This is like a new record. I think I deserve that raise now.” 

“Just get your arse behind this desk and start doing your job,” Peggy answered with a smile. Despite the constant tardiness, Darcy did mostly good work and she’s been with them almost since they opened. 

Steve turned towards the back room to begin setting up for his first consultation when the door rang again. 

“Ahh yes nothing like the smell of fresh ink in the morning,” Tony Stark said as he walked in followed by a pretty blonde he assumed was Miss Potts. Steve had completely forgotten that Pepper was coming in today to have a consultation with Peggy. He groaned internally before turning to greet them. 

Peggy immediately stepped forward with a warm smile. “Pepper! So nice to meet you again,” she said as she hugged her. “Why don’t we step on back and we can get started.”

Peggy whisked her off to her room leaving Tony standing alone in the waiting room. With his girlfriend taken care of Stark turned to talk to Steve. His eyebrows shot up behind those ridiculous pink shades, “Woah! Rogers, what happened? Who do I need to make conveniently disappear?”

Blushing, Steve touched the still fading bruise on his jaw, “Just got into a fight on my way home a couple a weeks ago.”

“Say the word and I can have them deported by the morning,” Stark continued. “I hear Siberia is particularly awful this time of year.”

“No, don’t worry. It’s nothing. Just a couple of bruises.”

“Nothing!” Darcy scoffed from the desk. “Our beautiful cinnamon roll would have been dead if his hot hobo ninja hadn’t swooped in to save the day.” 

Steve turned an even darker shade of red as he wondered why he thought telling Darcy about that night was a good idea.

“Please tell me a mask and spangly tights were involved,” Stark asked, trying and failing to hide his look of real concern as he looked Steve over. Underneath all the arrogance and sarcasm, Stark really did have a good heart. 

Choosing to just ignore him, Steve turned back around to get ready for his first appointment. 

“Don’t go Rogers! I need to know who to send the thank you card and fruit basket to!” he shouted after him.

…

Bucky landed a few more jabs before he was forced to stop by the cramping in his arm. He caught the bag and winced as he attempted to stretch out the muscles. Dropping down onto a nearby bench, he started unwrapping his hands. Clint joined him a moment later and tossed him a bottle of water.

“Still giving you trouble?” Clint asked as he began his post-workout stretching. 

Bucky scowled and chugged down his water rather than reply. The docs had said he should be able to regain most function in time but mornings like this at the gym near Clint’s place served as a reminder to just how slow progress was. They finished up their warm down in silence and then headed off the locker room. 

Bucky had met Clint back on his first tour when they were both still young and stupid. Clint was one of two people that he could call friend, the other being Nat who he’d known since they were both in diapers. Clint had left the service a year before Bucky was discharged and has since been working with a security company. He’d been trying to convince Bucky to take a job there for months but Bucky kept dodging his offers. He wasn’t sure why Clint even suggested it in the first place, he sure as hell didn’t trust himself to do that kind of work. 

In the locker room, Bucky grimaced as he peeled off his sweat soaked long sleeve tee. 

“I don’t get how you can wear those things all the time,” Clint said as he stripped his own short sleeve off.

“They’re not bad,” Bucky said with a shrug. “I just hate the way people stare at it.”

Clint studied him with a furrowed brow and Bucky swears he could actually see the light bulb go off in his head.

“Ever thought about getting a tattoo over it?” he asked with a grin. 

“Can you even do that with all of this?” Bucky asked gesturing to the thick crisscrossing scars all along his arm. 

“Yeah totally!” Clint continued eagerly as he threw on his clean clothes. “You know my buddy Sam from the VA?” 

Bucky narrowed his eyes and nodded. A little wary that this was going to be yet another one of Clint’s ploys to get him to attend a meeting with him. Bucky knows the VA really helped Clint make the transition to civilian life but nothing made him feel more nauseous than the idea of sitting in a room full of strangers and talking about his feelings.

“Well Sam’s roommate is a tattoo artist. Has his own place and everything,” Clint said. “He’s done stuff for some of the guys at the VA and it is sick shit. Plus I know he usually gives vets a discount.”

“I don’t know,” Bucky said. He seriously doubted anybody would be able to make something out of that mess but just the idea of maybe not having to be ashamed to have people see it made him feel a bit lighter. “I’ll think about it.”

…

It ended up taking Bucky three weeks to work up the courage to go the tattoo parlor. He kept finding an excuse for not having time but when Nat started threatening to drag him down there herself, he figured he had to get it over with.

He headed over around mid-day. It ended up being not too far from his place and only a couple blocks away from his favorite diner. The shop looked small jammed between a comic book store and a Starbucks. The cliché neon sign above the door read Brooklyn Ink and Bucky paused to check out the sample drawings plastered on the windows. Clint was right, this guy was good.

With a deep breath he stepped through the door and a small tinkling bell announced his presence. The waiting room had a couple small chairs in the corner and was completely covered in samples, sketches, and photos. The only other person in the room was the young dark haired girl behind the counter furiously typing away at her phone. Bucky walked up and she still hadn’t even bothered to glance in his direction. 

“Yeah?” she said eyes still glued to the screen.

“Umm hi. I’m here to see ugh…” he glanced again at the crumpled sticky note Clint had given him, “Steve Rogers.”

Still not even acknowledging him she replied, “Appointments need to be made at least a week in advance you can check…GOD DAMN.”

Bucky started at the exclamation. The receptionist had finally looked up from her phone and was now very obviously checking him out.

“So what did you need?” she said eagerly leaning forward on the desk. 

He rubbed the back of his neck feeling more than a little uncomfortable, “Umm yeah I didn’t know about the whole appointment thing but I was told to say I know Sam? He may have mentioned that I’d be stopping by…”

“Oh! You’re one of Sam’s guys! Gotta love a man in uniform,” she said with a wink.

“Listen if now’s a bad time I can just…” Bucky started, wanting to get the hell out of here.

“No! No, now’s a great time actually. You’re here for Steve right?”

Bucky nodded. She jumped up and opened up one of the doors on the back wall. Poking her head in, she called out, “Steven! Get out here. You’ve got a hot soldier dude waiting to meet you.”

Bucky cringed but managed to hide it before she turned back towards him with a smile. 

“Jesus Christ Darcy,” he could hear a deep voice muttering from the other side of the door, “We talked about this. I don’t need you scaring off all my clients just because you feel the need to say everything that pops into your head.”

The tattoo artist walked through the door into the waiting room and Bucky froze. Oh fuck.

He’s met Steve Rogers before. In fact, he met Steve Rogers in an alley not too long ago and then carried the punk to the hospital. The Steve Rogers he then abandoned at said hospital without a word because he was too terrified of the thoughts spinning around in his head. The Steve Rogers who when not covered in blood and bruises was almost painfully gorgeous. 

Bucky’s life was really unfair. There was Steve wearing a plaid shirt over a white v neck that exposed the looping cursive ink that decorated his collarbone. His blonde hair swept across his forehead from underneath a dark blue beanie and thick black frames made those striking blue eyes stand out even more than they had on the night they met. There Steve was looking like a model for some sort of hipster catalog and Bucky was just standing here with his hair up in a messy bun and a baggy long sleeve over his jeans. 

Steve looked about as shocked to see him as Bucky was, “What…how…holy shit! It’s you!”

The girl Darcy looked between them, “Wait you know him?”

Steve blushed, “Ugh yeah…kind of… This is that guy I told you about. The one that brought me to the hospital.”

“Ninja dude!” Darcy yelled. “No way! Peggy is going to flip…”

“Darcy,” Steve interrupted as his face turned an even darker shade of red, “don’t you have something you need to be doing.”

“Nope,” she said with a pop.

Steve rubbed at his forehead with a sigh. He looked at Bucky apologetically, “Just follow me. We can talk in the back.”

Bucky followed Steve through the door and into another room with a large reclining chair in the center, kind of like the ones you sit in at the dentist’s office. Next to it was a smaller chair on wheels and a rolling work table. 

Steve shut the door behind him and Bucky was immediately drawn to the designs covering the walls. It was the same style as the lot of the other ones he’d seen scattered around. There were a bunch of photos of pieces up there too and it was those that had Bucky staring slack jawed. 

“Sorry about Darcy…” he heard Steve say.

Bucky spun around and pointed to the pictures, “Are these yours?”

Steve looked to where he was pointing, “Oh yeah. Photos of some of my work.” 

Bucky grinned, “These are so bad ass!” 

He turned back towards the wall. The tats were like nothing he had ever seen before, images of mechanical parts and torn flesh that looked too real. The depth and detail was insane.

“Thanks,” Steve said and Bucky managed to catch the adorable blush. “I can’t believe you’re here. Thanks for ugh… helping me out the other night.”

Bucky smoothed back his hair, “Yeah… sorry about just ditching you at the hospital like that.”

Steve just chuckled and the deep warm sound made his heart stutter, “Don’t apologize. I really owe you one, umm…?”

“It’s Bucky,” he said reaching out to shake Steve’s hand. “Bucky Barnes.”

Steve took his hand, “Steve Rogers. But I guess you knew that… So what are you doing here?”

Ice filled his stomach. It had taken him forever to even make it to the shop but now thinking of how those blue eyes would fill with pity and disgust after seeing his arm made his mouth go dry and his lungs constrict, “Oh yeah umm, my friend Clint knows your roommate Sam and suggested I come by.”

Steve’s eyes lit up and Bucky had to fight the urge to run out of the room, “Sam mentioned that someone might be coming by. So what can I do for you?”

He swallowed and rubbed at his bad arm. He couldn’t do this. Couldn’t let this beautiful punk see how broken he was. His mind raced, “I…ugh…I… umm… I was thinking maybe something small on my arm.”

“Alright! You actually came at a perfect time. We had a cancellation so I’m free for the rest of the afternoon. Go ahead and have a seat,” Steve said gesturing to the tattoo chair. Bucky settled down there while Steve took the smaller artist's chair and pulled out a sketch pad. 

“What did you have in mind?”

… 

The design that Bucky asked for was fairly simple. Just a howling wolf with the words “Howling Commandos” written around it. 

Much to Steve’s disappointment, Bucky had kept his shirt on and just rolled up his right sleeve. Steve applied the stencil to the smooth expanse of skin on his upper arm and set to work on inking the design. The only sound in the room was the steady hum of the tattoo gun until the needle made contact and Bucky let out a muffled groan that caused Steve’s mouth to go dry and his blood to head south. But after that Bucky seemed to handle the pain just fine. So while Steve worked, they started to talk. Steve chatted about the shop and Peggy and how he got started with the job while Bucky shared some of his stories about hanging out with his buddy Clint overseas. Steve leaned away several times because he couldn’t stop laughing about how Clint stole Bucky’s clothes while he was in the shower forcing him to run across camp naked and how Bucky retaliated by filling Clint’s boots with syrup. 

Steve was a little struck by just how easy it was to talk to Bucky. Usually he would work in silence or made awkward chit chat if the client was particularly friendly, but for some reason with Bucky it was just easy. Even when there would be a lull in the conversation, Steve found himself struggling to focus with the way Bucky’s blue eyes kept studying him intently as he worked. 

He was working on the last bit of shading and had just finished telling the story about how he meet Sam through a random apartment ad on Craigslist when he asked about the reason behind the tattoo. 

Steve could practically feel the cold shift in the room as Bucky clamped up. Concerned, Steve looked up and saw Bucky just sitting there blank faced and staring off into the distance. 

“Sorry. It’s none of my business,” Steve quickly apologized but Bucky remained silent.

Finally done, Steve switched off the gun and put it aside. He grabbed some green soap to wash off the tattoo but when he touched him, Bucky flinched away. 

“Sorry, it’ll be sore for a while. I just need to bandage it up,” Steve said washing it off and then applying some anti-biotic ointment. He bandaged it up and Bucky just sat there stiffly. 

He had Bucky follow him out into the waiting room and, thankfully, Darcy had already disappeared for the day, so he rang up Bucky himself. Steve rattled out his usual lecture about aftercare and avoiding infection. Bucky just nodded along and refused to meet his eyes which left Steve reeling and wondering what exactly happened to their almost effortless connection. Before he could talk himself out of it, Steve grabbed a post-it and scribbled down his number.

He handed it to Bucky who looked back at him surprised, “Here’s my number. You know in case you have any questions or there’s an issue or something…”

“Oh okay, thanks for ugh…” he said gesturing to his bandaged arm. “Thanks.”

With that, Bucky turned and hurried out of the shop. 

“Since when do you give out your number to clients?” Peggy asked coming in from her work room and smirking at him. Of course she was still there and listening.

Steve pulled his beanie down low over his face to hide from the world and groaned, “Shut up, Peggy.”


	3. Chapter 3

Bucky popped open a beer and took a swig as he plopped his feet onto Nat’s lap. She was flipping through titles on Netflix looking for a movie to watch as they lounged around in Natasha’s tiny apartment. Bucky found himself hanging out here more and more as each day the empty walls in his place seemed to close in tighter around him. Nat had offered to have him move in with her but his stomach twisted whenever he thought of her finding out that he still woke up screaming most every night. 

“So Clint says it’s been going well,” Natasha stated, turning to give him a small smirk.

“So far,” Bucky replied with a shrug. Partly due to Clint’s insane persistence and partly due to the suffocating boredom of doing nothing for too long, Bucky agreed to start working at SHIELD. It was a strictly advisory position. With his Special Forces background and Clint’s recommendation, they had been eager to take him on but Bucky had made it clear that he was not willing to do any field work. He helped strategize for jobs and, at most, would visit locations to determine what safety measures needed to be put in place but that’s where he drew the line. 

“This is going to be good for you,” Nat replied fixing him with that steely gaze he’d grown far too familiar with. It was the same one she’d been using on him since they were kids. She saved it for those moments when she was sure without a doubt that she was right and much to Bucky’s extreme annoyance she usually was. 

Bucky nudged her with his foot, “Yeah, yeah. So what’s it going to be?” he asked using his beer to point towards the screen.  
“I’m feeling like it’s time for a Mean Girls rewatch.”

“When is it ever not time for that?”

Nat smiled and selected the movie. They kept chatting while it played in the background, Nat mostly catching him up on all the latest drama in her company. Bucky has dealt with a lot of crazy people in his career but none of them were nowhere near as intense as ballet dancers. He had a lot of respect for Natasha and the shit that she had to put up with.

About half way through the movie, Bucky found himself fiddling with his phone yet again. 

“You still haven’t texted him,” Nat said making Bucky start and hurriedly close out of his contacts list. She didn’t even bother phrasing it like a question. 

Bucky crossed his arms and fixed his gaze on the TV, not wanting to have this argument. 

Nat wasn’t going to let him off that easy though, “Seriously? Every time I see you now you’re making sad little puppy dog eyes at your phone. Just talk to him already.”

Bucky rubbed at his forehead, “Natasha…”

He saw the anger flare bright behind her eyes before she reigned it back under control, “No, don’t you ‘Natasha’ me,” she said setting her jaw and pointing her finger in a frankly terrifying imitation of Mrs. Romanoff. “I’m still pissed at you for chickening out about your arm and now you’re telling me that you’re too much of a coward to even talk to this Steve guy? At the very least you should call him about getting that tattoo. I know it’s been tough for you, James, but wallowing in it sure as hell isn’t going to make anything better!”

Bucky tensed as her attacks hit a little too close to home. Nat’s always been blunt with him, sometimes painfully so, and it was one of the qualities he loved most about her. She never put up with any of his bullshit and knew just how to push him along when he got caught up in his own head. But right now Bucky could not deal with her repeating all the stuff he already beats himself up for on the daily. 

“Drop it,” he said, his voice cold steel. 

Nat bit her tongue and searched Bucky’s face. With a sigh, she turned back towards the movie and rubbed his leg. She’s known him long enough to understand when she needs to step back and let him sort things out for himself. 

…

The heavy thump of the bass rattled in his chest and sounded deep in his bones. Steve slowly stirred his drink as he watched his friends dance and grind to the blaring club music. Peggy had bullied him until he agreed to go out with them to celebrate Angie’s birthday but he was nowhere near drunk enough to join them on the dance floor. So instead, he sat alone at a table in the corner sipping his drink and trying not to think about how much he wished he was home in his sweats. 

Steve was jolted out of his thoughts by the sounds of a struggle followed by a strangled yell coming from the bar behind him. Quickly hoping off the stool and spinning around, Steve tried to see what was going on through the thick crowd of people. A young lady stood off to the side looking white faced and shocked while a huge bald guy had his face shoved into the bar and his arm held back at an unnatural angle by another… wait… was that…

“Bucky?!” Steve shouted but his voice was buried under the music. 

A drunk guy stumbling past him looked up in confusion, “Who the hell is Bucky?”

Steve hurried over to find out what the hell was happening. As he got closer, he could make out Bucky’s voice above the crowd, yelling a dark stream of profanity at his captive, “You fucking disgusting piece of scum. I should rip your fucking arm out…” 

Steve pushed himself to the front of the crowd just as the bouncer made it through.

“Break it up! Break it up!”

Bucky just growled and tweaked the guy’s arm a little further unleashing another choked scream. That made the bouncer hesitate, “What the hell is going on here?”

The terrified woman hugged herself, “He… he saw that guy slip something into my drink,” she stuttered out as she pointed an accusatory finger at the bald man. 

The bouncer took a wary step forward and placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, “Alright, that’s enough. Let him go.”

Bucky just shrugged the hand off and kept his grip. The bouncer looked around at the surrounding crowd, “Anybody know this guy?!”

“Yeah! He’s with me,” Steve rushed forward and grabbed Bucky’s arm gently. “It’s okay, Bucky, just let him go. They’ll take care of this bastard.”

Bucky started as he looked at Steve. He immediately dropped the arm and the bouncer swooped in to drag the creep off of the bar. It took Bucky a while to process what was going on but then he broke out in a huge grin that made Steve’s stomach flutter.

“Steeeevvvviiiieeeee,” Bucky slurred out and as he swayed dangerously, Steve grabbed his waist to steady him. This close he could smell the thick stench of booze on his breath. Jesus, Steve thought, did he really just take down a guy twice his size while completely wasted?

Guiding Bucky over to a stool, he had him sit down and did his best to ignore all the stares they were getting, “Hey Bucky, you here with anyone?” 

Bucky nodded, “Clint! And Nat! You know she’s a ballerina?”

Steve quickly scanned the thick crowd to see if he could spot anyone that might be looking for Bucky, “No I didn’t know that. Do you know where they are?”

“Yeah, a ballerina. The. Real. Fucking. Deal. Tonight was the last night she could have fun,” Bucky continued. “But then at Outlaws, Clint started puking and puking and puking so Nat had to go off and take care of him cause they’re in looooovvveee.”

“Wait, are you saying they’re still at Outlaws?” Steve asked. Bucky grinned and nodded eagerly. “Jeez, Bucky, that’s half way across town!”

Bucky giggled and nearly collapsed off of his stool before Steve caught him. Steve quickly glanced around to see that pretty much everyone near was still eyeing them warily, “Okay, let’s get you home.”

Coaxing Bucky back on his feet, Steve slipped an arm around his waist and started shuffling him towards the side exit. Their progress out of the club was slow with Steve staggering under the weight of supporting him. Finally making it out into the alley next to the club, Steve had Bucky lean against the brick wall. While he tried and failed to reach Peggy on her cell, Bucky’s legs gave out and he crumpled to the ground. 

Cursing, Steve sent a quick text to let her know he had to take off and knelt in front of Bucky who had fallen into a fit of breathless giggles. 

“Steve!” he said reaching out a broad hand to pat Steve on the cheek. “It’s you!”

Steve smiled, “Yeah it’s me. Now, Bucky, can you tell me where you live? I’ll help you find your way back, okay?”

Bucky closed his eyes and shook his head, “No no no no no. I don’t wanna go back there, Stevie. Don’t make me go back there.”

“Alright,” Steve said furrowing his brow in confusion and worry. “We don’t have to go there…”

Steve bit his lip and ran his hand through his hair as he thought quickly. It’s just around the block and Sam was out of town for the weekend. 

Deciding, he stood back up and offered his hand down for Bucky, “Up.”

Bucky blinked up at him looking a little lost but took the offered hand anyway, “Where we goin?”

Steve slipped his hand back around Bucky’s waist and flung his arm over his shoulders, “You can crash at my place. But you’ve got two working legs and you better use them because I am sure as hell not carrying your sorry ass all the way there.”

They staggered the short distance back to Steve’s apartment, only having to stop briefly when Bucky had to suddenly empty out the contents of his stomach. Much to Steve’s relief, he managed to dodge out of the way in time. When they finally made it to his building, he thanked God that they actually had an elevator in their place because there would have been no way he could have dragged Bucky’s drunk ass up the four flights of stairs. He propped Bucky up against the wall while he fished through his pockets for his keys. 

“Woah there, Rogers!” Bucky said a little too loudly. Steve shushed him and frantically checked to make sure he hadn’t woken up Mrs. Turner down the hall. He hustled Bucky through the door and into the small living room that he shared with Sam.

“No, you listen here, Rogers,” Bucky continued unabashed as Steve locked the door. Turning, Steve found Bucky standing much too close and his breath hitched. Bucky grinned wildly, his cheeks red, “I’m a classy fella! I at least expect dinner before I just up and spend the night!”

Steve’s heart stopped when those blue eyes darkened and Bucky swayed in even closer, “Although, I suppose I can make an exception…”

“Slow down there, buddy,” Steve said but Bucky merely reached out to grab his waist. Steve pushed at his chest to get him to back up and forced him further into the room. Bucky bumped into the sofa and went tumbling backwards onto the cushions, nearly pulling Steve down with him. This, of course, set off another fit of laughter. 

“You okay?”

He rolled his head forward to look at Steve again, “I’m on top of the fucking worrrrrld, Stevie.”

Steve shook his head grateful that at least Bucky seems to have changed gears. Heading into the kitchen, he grabbed a cup and filled it up with water knowing it’ll at least help with the monster hangover Bucky had coming for him in the morning. 

“Sit up. I need you to drink this.”

Bucky obediently lifted himself up and began gulping down water. 

“I’ll go grab you some blankets. You might want to take that off though,” Steve said gesturing to the puke splattered shirt that Bucky had on. 

He walked down the hall to his bedroom and dug through his closet for some extra blankets. As he grabbed the extra pillow from off his bed, he shook his head thinking he would have never guessed that this was how his night was going to turn out. 

When he walked back out to give the stuff to Bucky, he froze. Bucky had just finished yanking his long sleeve off over his head and tossed it to the side. Steve’s eyes travelled slowly over the smooth curves of his well-defined muscles before being drawn to his left arm. Thick lines mapped their way all along his arm in a complex web of scar tissue and Steve’s fingers itched to trace every contour. It was beautiful, in that it spoke of pain and struggle and strength. Ideas and inspiration flashed through his head and Steve felt the desperate need to get his hands on his sketch pad. 

Steve forced himself to get a grip before Bucky noticed him leering. With his shirt removed, he collapsed back onto the coach. Steve chuckled and walked up to shove the pillow under his head. He covered him in the blanket and Bucky grunted in thanks. 

“Don’t you dare throw up on my couch,” Steve warned as he dragged the kitchen trashcan next to Bucky’s head. 

Bucky didn’t respond. Steve looked up to see that he was already passed out and snoring softly. He looked about five years younger, all calm and quiet, with the worry washed away from his face.

“Night, Bucky.”

…

Bucky shot up, head pounding and stomach rolling. The memory of fire and screams was still chasing him as he looked around wildly. He found himself on the couch of an unfamiliar apartment with his legs trapped beneath a tangled quilt. The dark room loomed around him and his heart raced as his breathing grew rapid and shallow. He felt like he was suffocating, a crushing weight on his chest, as terror overwhelmed him. 

Bucky felt himself lose control. Rationally his trained brain had taken in his surroundings and knew that there were no threats in the small living room but rational thought did nothing to quell the intense swell of panic. He felt glued to the spot unable to do anything but gasp for breath. 

Oh dear God, I’m really going crazy…

Suddenly, bright blue eyes appeared before him. He hadn’t even noticed him enter the room but now Steve Rogers was kneeling beside the couch looking concerned. 

“It’s okay, Bucky. You’re safe. We’re in my apartment,” he stated firmly. He grabbed Bucky’s left hand and placed it on his chest. “Just breathe with me, Buck. Nice and slow. Ready? In…” Bucky felt the small rib cage rise beneath his hand. “And Out…”

The next few minutes seemed to stretch on for eternity as Bucky struggled to match his breathing with Steve’s slow even rhythm. The whole time Steve muttered soft reassurances. Finally, with his help, Bucky managed to calm his body enough that the rising tide of panic could begin to recede. 

It was several more moments before his emotions were back under control. When he finally could manage it, Bucky buried his face in his hands, “What the hell is wrong with me.”

He felt the cushions shift beneath him as Steve joined him up on the couch, “It’s alright, Buck. You just had a panic attack. I used to get them when I was younger,” Steve said, a warm hand began to rub comforting circles into his back.

Bucky tensed when Steve made contact with bare skin. He looked down in horror to realize that he was shirtless, his arm exposed in all its damaged glory. He shrugged away from the touch and wrapped the blanket tightly around his shoulders. 

After a tense silence, Steve stood up.

“I’ll go grab you one of Sam’s old shirts. They should fit you,” Steve said with a bright smile that didn’t quite smooth over the little wrinkle of concern on his brow. “Yours kind of got in the line of fire last night.” 

While Steve disappeared back down the hall, Bucky took the moment to process everything. Flashes of last night started coming back to him, painting a hazy patchwork picture of what happened. He remembered heading out with Clint and Natasha to enjoy the last night that Nat could really have fun before she had to get serious about her upcoming performance. Next thing he knew he was in some other bar subduing a creep and then Steve appeared like some sort of guardian angel. He remembered his tipsy mind thinking that surely he must be dreaming as Steve stood before him looking unspeakably gorgeous in a tight v-neck and skinny jeans. He didn’t remember much after Steve had carted him out of the joint.

As the early hints of sunlight began to shine through the window, Bucky was able to get a good look at the apartment. It was small but nicely decorated with lots of bright colors and it had that lived in comfortable feeling of a home. It was a place that you could curl up in and relax. 

Steve reentered the room and tossed him a faded long sleeve which Bucky hurriedly pulled on. With his arm covered, he could relax a bit more but thinking back on it, he had slept all night shirtless. Yet not once this morning did he catch Steve gaping at it in disgust or staring with pity in his eyes. No, the only thing in his face had been genuine empathy and concern. Like, maybe he understood how it felt to have people treat you like you’re broken.

“How about pancakes and some coffee?” Steve said as he continued on into the small attached kitchen. 

Bucky felt a little worried about overstaying his welcome especially with all that Steve did for him last night but the overwhelming temptation of carbs and caffeine was too much to bear. Bucky refused to admit that it might also have something to do with wanting to spend more time with the cute tattoo artist. 

“That would be great,” he said as he got up from the couch and wandered over to the kitchen.  
“Thanks for everything, Steve. I know I must have been a lot to handle last night. I seriously owe you one.”

Steve didn’t look up from his mixing bowl but Bucky saw his cheeks go a little pink, “Consider us even.”

“Alright,” Bucky said. “Mind if I use your shower real quick?”

Steve pushed his glasses back up his nose with a finger before pointing down the hall, “First door on your left.”

The warm water worked wonders. Under the pounding heat, Bucky’s tense muscles finally unwound and the thick steam helped the pounding in his head begin to clear. By the time he finished cleaning up and redressing, Steve had two plates of pancakes sitting on the counter and a steaming cup of coffee for each of them. Bucky pushed his hair back, letting it hang loose to air dry, and beamed at Steve, “That smells amazing.”

Steve grabbed his food and headed to the couch, “Pancakes do happen to be a specialty of mine. Second only to my grilled cheese making ability.”

Bucky chuckled and joined him, “Damn, Rogers, is there anything you can’t do?”

Steve merely shrugged and switched on the TV, “I’ve been told my dancing skills do leave something to be desired.”

Bucky smiled and marveled at the blonde sitting next to him. Ever since he got back, it hasn’t been this easy to just talk to someone that wasn’t Clint or Natasha. Yet something about him and this punk just clicked. Steve’s calm solid presence had a way of putting him at ease and for once, even if it’s just for today, he doesn’t feel the need to run and hide.

Steve flipped through the channels until he came upon the beginnings of a Godfather marathon. Their twin eager exclamations settled the manner and had them both grinning like school boys at each other. Before he knew it, it was the late afternoon and they sat in front of an open box of pizza discussing the merits of the third movie while moaning over Sofia’s atrocious acting skills. Bucky couldn’t even remember the last time he was this effortlessly happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took a little longer I've been crazy busy lately! I seriously live for your guys' comments and feedback so let me know what you think. 
> 
> Also! I set up a writing [blog](http://chelome-writes.tumblr.com/) where I'll start posting updates an this fic and future ones. And if you want, join me on my personal [blog](http://bi-and-lookin-fly.tumblr.com/) where i mostly freak out about my numerous obsessions


	4. Chapter 4

Bucky grinned into his cup of coffee as he looked across the grimy diner table. Steve was busy sketching away. The now familiar little furrowed lines of concentration appeared between his eyebrows and the insane level of focus on his face was captivating. Then, occasionally, he’d lean back to assess his work and scratch at his dark grey beanie while biting his bottom lip. Bucky could sit and watch him for hours.

Not wanting to get caught staring, Bucky glanced around at the nearly empty diner and when he met the waitress’ eye she flashed him a wink. When he’d first strolled in here with Steve, she’d flat out refused to let them pay and now every time they came she showered them with free coffee and desserts. 

The sky outside was finally beginning to brighten and a quick look at his watch showed it to be almost five in the morning. Bucky felt another pang of guilt. It’d only be a few nights after his little drunken fiasco that he first called Steve. A nightmare had woken him up and that same consuming panic had taken over him. He didn’t know what else to do so he called Steve, who helped talk him down. Now, it’s become their habit. Whenever Bucky just can’t face it alone, he calls Steve and they meet at this tiny diner. It’s only happened a handful of times now but every time it does Bucky feels more and more guilty about being such a burden. 

With a much practiced effort, Bucky shoved down the guilt, “So what you working on?”

Steve shoved his glasses back up his face as he looked up at Bucky, “Sketches for a new client.”

“Can I see?”

Steve nodded and pushed the sketch pad across the table for him to see. Littered all across the page were drawings depicting ripped and exposed flesh. Bucky was impressed with how precise and anatomical they all were.

“Amazing,” Bucky said. “Little bit freaky but definitely amazing.”

Steve chuckled, “Yeah Wade is something else. Wants some really extensive work done. It should be interesting.”

“Sounds like it,” Bucky said as he started to flip through the pages of the sketch book.

“You don’t want to look through all that,” Steve said sharply. “Trust me it’s mostly junk.”

Bucky jerked the pad back when Steve reached out to take it. He grinned and continued to flip through marveling at Steve’s talent, “What are you talking about? All of your stuff is fantastic.”

“C’mon, Bucky, I should really get back to those sketches,” Steve said.

He lifted another page and the grin quickly dropped off of his face. There, depicted in smooth dark lines, was himself. It was a side view of him sitting with his face turned away. But what made Bucky freeze was the way that Steve had drawn him shirtless with his damaged arm the center of attention. Every thick line of scar tissue depicted with startling accuracy on paper. Yet somehow Steve’s artistic hand had managed to not make it look disgusting or horrifying but rather almost beautiful.

Steve sighed, “Shit. I’m so sorry, Buck. I know your arm makes you uncomfortable…”

Bucky ignored Steve as he struggled for words. He tore his eyes away from the picture, feeling deeply unsettled, and turned another page. At first he thought it was just another tattoo sketch, a full sleeve made to look like a robotic arm, but when he looked closer he began to see the other lines carefully woven into the design. Lines representing his all too familiar scar pattern flowing into the sketch flawlessly. 

He set the pad down, “Is that supposed to be for me?”

Steve rubbed at his face as he blushed, “Yeah… I’m really sorry, Bucky, I should have asked before I drew anything like that. I just saw your arm the other night and I got inspired…”

Bucky met Steve’s concerned apologetic gaze and worked up his courage.

“Could you actually do it?” he asked.

Steve looked taken back, “The sleeve? You want me to actually…”

Bucky nodded.

“Well it would take a while to complete and the scar tissue is going to be a bit of a challenge to work around,” Steve said, a big grin steadily growing on his face. “But, yeah, I can do it.”

…  
Steve locked the door behind him and started heading down the street back towards his apartment. It’d been way too long of a day full of picky and demanding clients. One guy had flinched so violently when he felt the needle that he smacked Steve in the face. Worst of all, Bucky had been busy at work and hadn’t come in the past few mornings to get the sleeve worked on, so Steve didn’t even have that to brighten his day. Those few hours he got to spend working on Bucky’s arm or even the occasional late night diner runs were easily the best part of Steve’s week.

Steve still couldn’t believe that Bucky saw his designs and wanted it. He’d been absolutely horrified when he realized Bucky found those drawings. He expected him to be upset and furious at the invasion of privacy but Bucky had surprised him yet again. 

He opened the door of his small apartment to find Sam sprawled out on the couch with a book in hand. 

Sam snapped the book shut and greeted Steve with a grin, “Just the man I was looking for! How about we hit the town this weekend? Some good ol’ bro bonding time.”

“I take it things didn’t turn out well with the girl you were seeing,” Steve said as he headed into the kitchen for a snack.

Sam groaned, “Apparently ‘it’s complicated’ is actually code for ‘I lied about being single and I actually have a husband up in Vermont.’” 

“Yikes,” Steve said as he bit into an apple. “Well Peggy and Angie have already claimed me tomorrow night but I’m sure you can tag along.” 

Peggy had guilted him into going out again, claiming that he owed them one for ditching them last time. Steve caved and he almost considered calling Bucky and inviting him but he was so not ready for the very pointed teasing his friends would give him. Plus, he was terrified of letting himself fall even more for Bucky. Steve already had to struggle against the urge to kiss the bastard on his perfect mouth every time he saw him he really didn’t want to add alcohol to the mix. For all he knew, Bucky was straight and Steve was a lost cause. Even if he did like men, there was no way someone like Bucky would be interested in Steve. Sure Bucky had flirted with him that night but at that point, Bucky was drunk enough to flirt with a chair and not know the difference.

“What are the chances of some of Angie’s hot actress friends being there?” Sam asked perking up.

“I’d say fairly high.”

“Count me in.”

…

Saturday morning had Steve and Sam working across from each other at the kitchen table. Steve did his best to sit perfectly still so as not to aggravate his aching ribs, his souvenir from last night’s beating. Luckily, Sam had left early the night before with one of Angie’s beautiful friends so Steve had been spared from his usual long tirades. Sam had looked over the bruises this morning but he was in such a good mood that all he gave Steve was a tired disappointed glare. 

Mind wandering, Steve gripped his pencil hard as he stared blankly at the clean paper. It’d been a half hour and he hasn’t drawn a thing. His head too caught up on worrying to focus. The sound of Sam’s steady typing stopped.

“Alright spit it out,” Sam said leaning back with arms crossed. “I can hear those gears grinding from here.”

“It’s Bucky,” Steve said. “I’m not sure what to do.”

Steve felt so helpless in the face of Bucky’s suffering. He was so far out of his depth with this and he was desperately hoping that Sam could throw him some sort of life line.

Sam narrowed his eyes for a moment, “You can’t force recovery, Steve. He’s got to get there on his own terms.”

“I know that,” Steve said with a sigh. “But he’s hurting, Sam. And I’m so terrified of doing or saying the wrong thing and making it worse.”

“It’s tough, man,” Sam answered. “This crap ain’t easy but you’re on the right track. What he needs is for you to be a friend and to be there to listen when he’s ready to open up.”

Steve sighed and went back to staring at the blank page, no less worried than before.  
…

“Stop staring,” Steve grumbled with his eyes glued to Bucky’s arm.

“I can’t help myself,” Bucky said with a smirk. “You are just too pretty, Rogers.”

Bucky felt a swell of pride as he succeeded in bringing that bright blush to Steve’s face.  
“Little bit of life advice, Buck,” Steve said still not letting Bucky break his focus. “It’s generally not a good idea to tease a man holding a giant needle. Especially when that man is in charge of permanently altering your body.”

Bucky just smiled and let them sink back into a comfortable silence as Steve worked. The steady buzz of the gun filled the room with an almost numbing background noise and the sharp pain of the needle brought along a strange sense of clarity. Something about the whole process had a way of quieting the roaring thoughts in his head and instead allowed him to focus on just what was happening now. 

A few moments later and Steve switched off the tattoo gun.

“Alright,” he said as he straightened up, “that’s all I’ve got time for today. Looks like we just need a few more sessions and it’ll be done.”

Bucky looked over his arm as Steve started to clean up. All of the line work was done and Steve had started working on the coloring for the upper portion of the arm. It was a bit of a slow process with how complex and detailed the design was but he was hardly going to complain about any time he got to spend with Steve. Bucky had already been here for four sessions so far at Steve’s shop. Steve was still pretty swamped with clients so to squeeze Bucky in he opened early and worked on the tatt a couple of hours at a time. 

Steve wheeled back over to him and started cleaning off his arm. When he stood up to grab the clean bandages, Bucky caught him flinch in pain. 

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asked, brain already firing with all sorts of awful scenarios.

Steve just paused and avoided his eyes, “What?”

He grabbed Steve’s arm and dragged him closer. 

“Stop, Bucky, it’s nothing,” Steve protested. 

Bucky ignored him as he grabbed the bandages out of Steve’s hand and set it aside. He then grabbed the hem of Steve’s shirt and lifted it up to expose, not only, the Celtic style cross above his left hip but also the bright purple bruises decorating his ribs.

“Sure doesn’t look like nothing, Steve,” he said as he gingerly prodded at the bruises, testing for any more severe injuries. Steve hissed in a breath when Bucky poked at a particularly nasty looking mark.

“I’m fine,” Steve insisted. 

Bucky dropped Steve’s shirt back down, satisfied that none of his ribs were broken, “The hell happened?”

Steve sighed and determinedly began his original task of bandaging up Bucky’s arm, “Some dirt bag was making gross comments to Peggy and her girlfriend so I told him to fuck off. He didn’t take to kindly to that.”

“Steve Rogers, I’m starting to think you like being punched,” Bucky said trying and failing to hide his smile.

Steve shrugged, “I just don’t like bullies.”

Bucky felt a rush of warm affection quickly followed by a tangled mess of fear and guilt. While his heart fluttered, his stomach dropped painfully. Here Steve was, gorgeous fucking saint that he was, risking his life to help strangers and refusing to take any shit from jerks. If Bucky was sure of anything, it was the fact that he will never be good enough for Steve Rogers. 

Steve deserved so much more than the heap of broken remains that was Bucky. Yet, for some reason, whether it was pity or a form of charity, Steve stuck by his side. He figured Steve was too good of a guy to just cut him loose when he’s still all pathetic and lost but Bucky couldn’t do the right thing and just stay out of his way. When it came to Steve, Bucky was like a god damn moth to flame, chasing after every last bit of light and warmth Steve threw his way.

Just as Steve finished wrapping him up, Bucky was dragged along by this wild terrified courage. He doesn’t know what on earth possessed him to say it but the story came tumbling out nonetheless, “It was… umm… my ugh… my third tour.”

He saw Steve turn straight towards him and go absolutely still as he immediately realized the severity of what Bucky was saying.

Bucky played with the bandage on his wrist, unable to look Steve in the eye, “It’d been with my unit for almost a year at this point. Worst group of guys you could ever meet,” he said with a chuckle.

“They were brothers to me,” Bucky explained. “We were good at our jobs, the best, but we were also some real trouble makers. Wreaking all sorts of havoc just for a good laugh.”

Memories flooded through his mind: groggy mornings spent gathered around a table in the mess hall roaring over each other’s past exploits, those rare free afternoons where they passed the time engaged it some rather fierce prank wars, and those dark nights after particularly nasty missions where they sat around the tent rattling off lame jokes and filling the air with howls of empty laughter. Anything they could do to distract themselves.

“Earned ourselves a nickname,” he said finally looking up to give Steve a sad smile. “The ‘Howling Commandos’ they called us.”

He took in a deep shaky breath to prepare himself for this next part, “Then… ugh… one day, about a year ago now, we were out on a mission. We were running a simple sweep of a suspected hide out and I was holding the perimeter while they cleared the building. Then…umm,” he clenched his jaw painfully and fought against the hot angry tears. “Then, through my scope I catch sight of this kid… couldn’t have been more than 10 or 12 years old…carrying a gun even bigger than him. He’s approaching the south side of the building and I see him sneaking up on one of my men. The kid raised the rifle and Gabe didn’t even know he was there… I could see it all, he was just about to pull that trigger. And Gabe was family, he had a girl back home, was expecting a baby any day now. And I…I…I had to take it. I had to take the shot.”

Bucky sucks in a harsh breath as the tears spill out. He starts when one of Steve’s warm hands grabs his but he still can’t make himself meet Steve’s eyes again.

“I see him. Every fucking night, I see him. All I can do is sit and watch as he crumples to the ground like a fucking rag doll,” Bucky wipes at his face with his free hand as he grips Steve tighter. “We finished up the mission successfully after that and I was in the passenger seat as we drove back to the base. I should have… God, I should have been watching the road. Except, the entire damn time all I could even think about was that little boy and how I had to watch the light suddenly leave his eyes and know I was the one that caused it. I’d killed people before but none of them had been like this. I just kept replaying it over and over in my head.”

For a moment, the words he had to say next got stuck in his throat. Steve just sat there in steady silence and waited for him to continue. 

“On the way back, we hit an IED,” he said finally managing to look up at Steve. “The blast threw me from the vehicle and shrapnel tore through my arm. I was laying in the dirt bleeding out for what felt like an eternity. Just over the ringing in my ears I could hear them all screaming… And the smell… God, Steve, the smell was suffocating. Just the stench of burning flesh… I blacked out just as the rescue came and next thing I knew I was in a hospital.”

Bucky shoved away the memories as best he could, “Over half of my men died that day… The rest of us, well, I nearly lost my arm, Gabe’s in a wheelchair for the rest of his life, and Dugan’s short a leg.”

He slumped forward and covered his face in his hands. The memories and emotions he’s worked so hard to repress these past few months bubbling back to the surface. Nothing was worse than the hot heavy guilt slowly eating away at him. Bucky stared off into the distance, seeing nothing but the horrors of the past. 

“I’m a monster, Steve,” Bucky said in a soft lonely voice. “I didn’t even hesitate to shoot that kid. Sure, I justified it later but in the moment I barely even gave it a second thought…I’m a monster.”

Steve stood up and gripped Bucky’s face with both hands forcing him to meet his gaze. 

“You are not a monster, Bucky,” Steve said firmly, every inch of his face speaking of fierce determination. “Monsters don’t carry strangers all the way to the hospital after rescuing them. Monsters don’t beat up jerks who try to roofie girls. And monsters sure as hell don’t think they’re monsters.”

Steve slotted himself into the v of Bucky’s legs so he could wrap his slim arms tightly around Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky leaned into the embrace, throwing his arms around Steve’s waist and burying his face into Steve’s chest. 

Relishing Steve’s warmth and breathing in the comforting scent of him, Bucky whispered, “I should have been watching the road, Steve. I should have been watching the road.”

“There was nothing you could have done, Buck,” Steve said as he reached a hand up to begin stroking Bucky’s hair. “You know something? Gabe’s kid has a father because of you.”

Bucky held on even tighter as sobs wrenched their way out of his body. He hadn’t even told the whole story to Clint and Nat yet here he was laying his soul bare in front of this punk. Any moment now, Steve would realize what a pathetic broken person he was and head for the hills. No way would he want to deal with all this crazy shit, Bucky sure as hell didn’t. He couldn’t even bare to face it how the hell did he expect someone else to. 

“I don’t have another client for a while still,” Steve said softly. “How about you and I head back to my place and finish the rest of the latest season of Master Chef? I’ll even make you a grilled cheese.”

He chuckled softly into Steve’s chest and nodded. Maybe Bucky might just get to keep him for a little while longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> your comments and kudos are always much appreciated and beloved! also FYI it's looking like there are going to be about three more chapters in this story. I hope you all have lovely days!
> 
> check out my writing [blog](http://chelome-writes.tumblr.com/) for updates on this fic and any future ones!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello you beautiful amazing people. alright chapter 5 is FINALLY up! I'm so so so so sorry that this one took so insanely long but after chapter 4 was posted I started up classes again which means my free time became pretty much non-existent. anyways I really hope you like it and your feedback is always insanely appreciated!

Steve held Bucky’s hand firmly. Holding it steady as he worked on the last bit of coloring on his sleeve and not at all thinking about how warm it was wrapped around his own or about how those rough calluses felt when they brushed against his smooth palms.

Meanwhile, Bucky was complaining about his day at work.

“I mean really how can someone be that incompetent?” he ranted. Steve struggled to hide his grin as Bucky looked very much like he had steam coming out of his ears. Steve loved seeing Bucky this worked up and passionate, the last time had been while giving a twenty minute rant on how people being jerks to customer service workers are the worst kind of people.

“Thank God, Clint was working that shift,” Bucky said.

Apparently a job he worked on had gone a bit south last night. They were staffing a concert and Bucky had been in charge of most of the organizing. Then, one of their newbies in the field let a pretty blonde back stage without the proper clearance just because she batted her eyes at him. She ended up being a stalker that had been harassing the singer for months and nearly mauled the artist when she got back to her dressing room. Luckily, Clint managed to take her down before she could harm anyone. 

“You know that poor singer was so terrified she canceled the rest of her shows for the week?” Bucky said shaking his head in disbelief. “All because my coworker was an idiotic dickwad.”

Bucky scoffed, “And let me tell you, that’s nothing compared to what happened last week…”

“I think you should do it,” Steve interrupted as he lifted Bucky’s hand a little higher to get a better angle on the shading he was finishing up.

“Huh?”

Steve squinted his eyes, trying to judge if the spot just under Bucky’s wrist needed to be a smidge darker, “Well it sounds like these ‘incompetent dickwads,’ as you so eloquently put it, really need you covering their asses on the job.”

He inked in a bit more color before demeaning the spot done.

“I…I don’t know if that would be a good idea…” Bucky said.

Steve stopped his work to look up at his friend. Bucky looked small, drawing in on himself. Whenever, Bucky got like this, face etched with guilt and pain, Steve felt his heart getting ripped clean out of his chest. 

Steve reigned in his own emotions and gave Bucky a small smile before dutifully returning his focus to the last bit he had to finish up on the sleeve, “I just think it’s what you do best.”

“What I do best?”

“Yeah… protecting people,” Steve said touching up a spot he missed right next to a thick line of scar tissue. 

Bucky fell silent after that. Then, a few moments later when Steve switched off the gun Bucky said softly, “I guess I’ll think about it.”

Steve beamed up at him and gave his hand a squeeze before letting go. He wheeled away to set down his equipment and grab stuff to clean up. 

“Holy shit, is it actually done?” Bucky asked eagerly.

“All done,” Steve answered.

Bucky hopped off the chair and hurried over to the mirror hanging up on the wall to check it out. His entire face lit up when he finally got a good look at the finished tattoo. Steve started cracking up at the way Bucky was flexing and posing to check it out from all angles. When Bucky turned and directed that blinding smile on him, Steve felt his heart leap into his throat. 

“Fuck, Stevie, this is fantastic! You really out did yourself,” Bucky said.

Steve rubbed at the back of his neck and looked down. Bucky looking at him like he just hung the moon was just too much to take. 

“Thanks, Buck,” Steve said. “Now, get your ass back on the chair so I can clean it up.”

Bucky willingly obliged and as he washed and wrapped Bucky’s lower arm, Steve was able to appreciate his handiwork. Bucky was right. This just might be his best one yet. The way that the design beautifully intertwined with the lattice work of scars present on Bucky’s arm turned out better than he even expected. It looked precise and mechanical yet still somehow organic, like it was always a part of him. 

He finished up and led the still beaming Bucky out into the front office. His receptionist immediately perked up when they entered. 

“Hey Darcy, I need you to ring up Bucky for me,” Steve said as he walked behind the counter to write up Bucky’s total.

“No, Sarg, say it ain’t so!” Darcy exclaimed. “What ever am I supposed to do without that charmin’ smile of yours brightening up my day?”

Bucky leaned on to the counter with a smirk suddenly all easy charm, “Easy now, dollface, you know I could never stay away from you.” 

Darcy fanned herself and gave a melodramatic swoon. Steve rolled his eyes. Over the past few weeks, Bucky and Darcy had developed quite the rapport. It largely consisted of over the top flirting that most definitely did not make Steve want to punch a wall. Despite how it would make him cringe, it was always great to see Bucky when he turned on the charm. He was so rarely at ease that to see him all suave and confident made Steve insanely happy. 

He handed the paperwork over to Darcy, “We do pay you for a reason, you know. And it’s not to stand around and flirt with my customers.”

Darcy turned towards him and grabbed the papers with a dramatic salute, “Aye aye, Captain.”

She started ringing him up but paused a moment to give Steve a knowing look when she saw the total. Steve ignored her as he faced Bucky and said, “Alright, you know the drill. Keep it clean, infection is bad, yadda yadda yadda.” 

Bucky chuckled as he handed Darcy a credit card, “Yeah, I got it figured out by now.”

“Alright,” Darcy said handing over his receipt. “You’re good to go, stud muffin.” 

Bucky smiled and looked back over to Steve. Steve stood firmly behind the counter feeling suddenly awkward and out of place. With one long sweeping gaze, Bucky took in the site of him and something in his face shifted, grew a little softer and sadder. 

Bucky reached out a hand, “I seriously can’t thank you enough, Steve. This means a lot.” 

Steve stared at the offered hand for a moment suddenly realizing that the best part of his weeks was about to walk out that door. He grew melancholy as he wondered if and when he’ll get to see Bucky again. 

Finally snapping back to the present, Steve firmly shook the offered hand, “I’m just glad you like it.” 

Steve’s hand lingered for just a bit too long as he got lost staring into those gorgeous eyes. He quickly snatched his hand back and crossed his arms over his chest. 

As Bucky started heading out of the shop, Darcy sprawled forward onto the counter and reached out towards his retreating figure, “Farewell, my love!”

Pausing at the door, Bucky blew Darcy a kiss and flashed Steve a quick wink before leaving the shop.

Darcy immediately turned towards him and gave him a shove, “How have you not hit that yet??”

“It’s not like that,” Steve said. “We’re just…”

“Steven Grant Rogers,” Darcy interrupted grabbing his face with both hands and forcing him to meet her eyes. “If you say, ‘We’re just friends’ I will personally call up Peggy on her day off and have her come down here so we can both knock some sense into you.”

Steve dislodged himself from her grasp, “Well we are all right.” 

“Oh please,” Darcy said. “You’re so obviously smitten. Or did you think I wouldn’t notice that that was quite a bit more than a friends and family discount?”

“He’s a vet! It’s a good cause,” Steve replied ignoring the way his face heated up. He refused to admit out loud that he was so incredibly gone when it came to Bucky. 

“Fine!” Darcy said throwing her hands up in the air. “Continue making sad googlie eyes at each other for all of eternity! See what I care!”

She turned back to her computer, muttering to herself as she furiously typed. Steve turned and headed back into his office. For the rest of his day, all he could really think about was the look on Bucky’s face when he saw Steve’s work finally complete.

…

Bucky was just finishing up storing his gear from his latest job when his phone started buzzing. Checking the screen, he smiled when he saw the name Steve Rogers flashing up at him. He hadn’t heard from Steve since he got his arm finished up nearly a week and a half ago and it had been starting to worry him. 

Bucky accepted the call, “Hey Steve, what’s up?”

“Hey, it’s Sam,” said the voice over the line that was most definitely not Steve. Bucky had met Sam only a couple of times and never before has he called him up like this. 

“Is everything alright?” Bucky asked beginning to panic that something’s up with Steve. Why else would Sam call him out of the blue.

“Not exactly,” Sam sighed. “Now, that idiot may be too thick headed to ask for help when he needs it but I sure as hell am not.”

“What is it?”

“Steve’s been holed up in his room sick all week and I’ve been looking after him but a crisis came up at work so I need to take off. Think you can swing by here and make sure he doesn’t kill himself before I get back?” Sam asked.

“I’ll be right over.”  
…

Bucky’s knuckles barely even made contact with the door before it flew open. Sam stood to the side, already bundled up for the freezing winter weather, so Bucky could enter. 

“Where is he? Is he alright?” Bucky asked a little frantic as he stripped off his scarf and coat.

Sam smirked and gave him an appreciative glance, “It’s just the flu. He always gets it bad this time of the year. Nothing too serious but with his asthma we always have to keep a close eye on him make sure it doesn’t go into his chest.” 

Bucky nodded already making a mental note to look up the symptoms of pneumonia the first chance he gets. 

Sam grabbed his bag and paused before heading out the door to grab Bucky’s hand and give it a firm shake, “Thanks so much, man. And I wish you the best of luck, Steve is impossible when he’s sick.”

He turned and left leaving Bucky standing alone in the living room of the small apartment. He wandered over to the kitchen and decided to take inventory. Thankfully, the fridge and cupboard were fully stocked with plenty of soup to spare. On the counter, next to the sink, was an entire pharmacy’s worth of meds and a yellow notepad with instructions for each scribbled down in Sam’s neat handwriting. 

Bucky was interrupted about halfway through the list by the sound of a strained voice calling out from the hallway, “God damn it, Sam, if you’re going to hold me prisoner here you at least have to tell me where you hid my work stuff.”

Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle as Steve shuffled into sight wrapped up like a burrito in his comforter. His blonde hair stood up in all directions, his nose was bright red, and his eyes were glassy behind his thick glasses but he was still the most beautiful thing that Bucky had ever seen. When Steve caught sight of him standing in the kitchen, he let out a groan.

“Nooooo. You’re not supposed to be here. What are you doing here?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, “Well hello to you to.”

Steve shuffled further into the living room to lay down on the couch, “Tell Sam I don’t need a babysitter. I’m f-“

His sentence was interrupted by a bought of wheezing coughing that made Bucky’s own chest constrict. Luckily he’d read that section of the yellow pad and grabbed one of the spare inhalers that had been left on the counter. He ran it over to Steve who took a few puffs in order to get his lungs back in order. 

“You sure don’t sound fine to me,” Bucky said from his spot squatting in front of the couch. He gently pushed Steve’s hair back so he could lay a hand on his forehead. It felt slightly warm but nothing too worrisome.

Steve just rolled his eyes but offered no further protests. Bucky stood up and made them both some tea in the kitchen before plopping down on the other end of the couch. Grabbing the remote, he turned on the TV. 

Steve nudged him with his foot, “Don’t you have work or something? I don’t want you getting fired just because of me.”

“I worked this morning. Just got done when Sam called me to come take care of your sorry ass.”

Steve ignored the jab, “How did it go?”

Bucky rubbed at the back of his neck and let out a small smile as he looked over at Steve, “Really well actually. Coulson called me into his office afterwards. Says he’s really impressed with how I’ve been doing and he wants me on this really big job we’ve got coming up.”

Steve’s face lit up in that way that always made Bucky’s stomach do somersaults, “That’s amazing, Buck!”

“What? No I told you so?” Bucky teased.

Steve smirked and took a sip of his tea, “I did tell you so. I can’t believe you would ever doubt me.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon just lying on the couch and watching endless amounts of mind numbing television. Steve spent much of the time moaning about not being able to work and attempting to talk Bucky into letting him just stop by the shop for a second. Bucky had no problem ignoring his pleas, the main hiccup in the day occurred when it came time for Steve to take his medication. 

“Buckyyyyy,” came Steve’s nasally whine. “Get offff.”

“Nope,” said Bucky crossing his arms, “not until you agree to take it.”

Steve again tried to shove Bucky off of him but with no success. 

“Alright, I hate to do this but you leave me no choice,” Bucky said as he leaned to the side and let it rip.

“No, oh God no,” Steve groaned and buried his face in his pillow. “This is cruel and unusual punishment.” 

“Well if someone wasn’t such a big baby I wouldn’t have to resort to this.”

“Fine,” Steve sighed. “Just get the hell off of me.”

After that battle, Bucky managed to coax Steve into eating some chicken noodle soup and they planted themselves back on the couch. Steve nestled back into his comforter and leaned his head against Bucky’s shoulder. With his meds kicking in, Steve was knocking out fast. 

Bucky wrapped an arm around those slim shoulders, “Sleep tight, tough guy.”

Steve snuggled in closer, closing his eyes, “Nighty night, Buck.”

He wheezed out a few coughs that shook his entire frame in a way that made Bucky all too aware of just how fragile his Stevie really was. He squeezed him a little tighter.

“I swear, Rogers, if you get me sick I am going to make you pay,” Bucky said with a bit too much of a waiver in his voice for it to come off as anywhere near a serious threat.

Steve lightly chuckled, his warm breath ghosting against Bucky’s neck. Just barely clinging on to consciousness, he sighed, “I love you…” 

Bucky froze and looked down at Steve’s face not quite sure he really just heard what he thought he heard. Steve was already gone though, completely oblivious to the way Bucky’s heart just started trying to pound its way out of his chest. 

“Love you too, punk,” he whispered and planted a kiss on top of that blonde head.


	6. Chapter 6

Steve sighed in frustration as he tried and failed once again to get his bowtie on correctly. With a rather vivid string of curses, he unknotted the mess. Why the hell was he even bothering with this bullshit? In the mirror, he saw the door open behind him and Angie Martinelli entered in looking stunning in a dark green floor length gown and her hair done up in an elaborate mess of curls.

“Need some help there, tough guy?” she asked smirking.

Steve threw up his hands in exasperation as he turned around so she could do up his tie properly, “Remind me again why I agreed to this.”

“Because you love me,” Steve rolled his eyes which caused Angie to laugh. “And because you’re the dumbass who came into work still sick and gave Peggy your germs. Now you have to be my replacement date.”

She finished up his bowtie with a few more delicate tugs, “There. How’s that?”

Steve turned back towards the mirror and grimaced. The tux itself fit well but the smooth lines only served to highlight his scrawny frame and Steve has never been on the best of terms with his appearance. 

From behind him, Angie leaned forward to wrap her arms around his waist and rest her chin on his shoulder, “Stop it with the face, Rogers. You are, without a doubt, one of the handsomest fellas I have ever met.”

She turned her face and kissed him on the check, “Hell, if our tastes were even the least bit aligned I would snatch you up in a heartbeat.”

Steve chuckled at that, “Well good thing they aren’t. I really don’t think I could survive Peggy’s wrath.”

“She can be a wee bit frightening,” Angie said as she smiled and straightened up. She slipped her arm through one of Steve’s and began pulling him towards the door. “Alright, come on, the limo should be out front to pick us up by now.”

Steve took a deep breath and tried to fortify himself for the long night of smiling and awkward small talk that lay ahead of him. Hopefully they’d at least have an open bar.

Angie stopped and opened the door to the other bedroom in her and Peggy’s small apartment. From his spot behind Angie, he could just make out a vaguely human shaped figure under a pile of blankets with a wild mess of hair sticking out from the top.

“Margaret, my sweet darling, is there anything you require?” Angie called out.

“Piss off,” came the muffled reply. 

Angie and Steve both snickered. As Angie closed the door, she hollered back, “Just stay in bed, English, and don’t do anything stupid till I get back.”

…

Bucky sat at the small table cleaning his guns as Clint and Sharon reviewed the guest list. He’d already memorized the intel by heart so he just let his mind drift throughout the methodical maintenance. It was a well-practiced routine, drilled into his brain from years of service. However, his left hand still threw him off, more awkward and fumbling than he was used to but it was getting better.

Sitting there, in just his undershirt still, he kept loosing focus and glancing down at his tattoo covered arm. For the past few days, it’s been driving him crazy. He keeps replaying the memory of that night over and over again. He could have sworn Steve told him that he loved him but the next morning they both woke up from where they’d knocked out on the couch and nothing. Not a word, not a hint, absolutely nothing from Steve. And ever since Bucky’s been losing it wondering if maybe he just misheard? It had to be just him hearing what he wanted to hear…right?

A swift kick in the shin jerked Bucky from his thoughts.

“Hey! The hell man?” he said looking incredulously at Clint across from him.

“Well, welcome back,” Clint said standing up and straightening his waistcoat. “I was just saying that guests should be arriving within a half hour so you two better move into position.”

Clint headed out the door and Bucky got up to finish getting into his tuxedo. 

SHIELD had been prepping for this job for weeks now and with a high profile client like Tony Stark there was a lot of pressure for everything to go smoothly. Stark was hosting a gala to raise money for one of his charities and it was supposed to be one of the hottest events of the year. Stark had his own men handling basic security as always but in the weeks leading up to the event, Pepper Potts had started receiving some rather disturbing anonymous threats and SHIELD was contacted. From what he heard, Stark had wanted to cancel the whole affair but Ms. Potts had insisted that it continue. She arranged for SHIELD to provide extra security on the night of but she made it clear that she wanted everything to be very discrete. She did not want their guests feeling worried or uncomfortable by the added security. 

SHIELD was planting their best field agents in the party to keep a close eye on things and ensure both Ms. Potts’ and Mr. Stark’s safety. Clint and a few others were disguised as waiters and staff to keep an eye on everything behind the scenes as well as in the party while Bucky and his coworker Sharon had been selected to go in as guests and stick close by their clients at all times without drawing too much attention to themselves. 

As he ran through room schematics and potential risks in his head, he remembered how much he hated covert ops. He was great at the job but the covert stuff always had him feeling unsettled and after so much time spent staying as far away from field work as he could, Bucky was having trouble shaking this nagging worry. He kept trying and failing to smother that voice in the back of his head telling him he was going to ruin everything. The last few nights his nightmares had been getting worse too, like his subconscious was screaming at him to turn back now but he couldn’t. He had to go through with this.

Bucky slipped his guns into their holsters and adjusted the jacket of his tux to make sure they were covered. He waited while Sharon finished adjusting her thigh holster so they could head down to the party. He thanked God again that he was lucky enough to be partnered up with Sharon for this assignment. She was amazing in the field, one of the best. 

Slipping her dress back down she stood and looked Bucky over, “Looking good, Barnes.”

“Not too bad yourself,” he answered back. Sharon, as a matter of fact, looked drop dead gorgeous in her tight red dress. 

The pair headed out the door of one of the small rooms Stark provided for them to get ready in. Sharon looped her arm through his and Bucky did his best to swallow down his nerves. He clenched and unclenched his left hand, he could do this.

…

“I can’t do this, Ang,” Steve muttered in her ear, keeping a smile painfully plastered on his face as the paparazzi’s cameras flashed around him. All the attention that he got just from being the man on Angie Martenelli’s arm was making his stomach twist. 

Angie’s own plastered on smile somehow managed to look completely genuine, no doubt due to years of practice. She leaned close to him to whisper back, “Just keep smiling, tough guy, and I promise to get you a drink the second we make it inside.”

The rest of the walk down the red carpet seemed to take an eternity and Steve’s cheeks were stiff and cramping by the time they finally made it inside. As promised, Angie immediately dragged him over to the bar and grabbed them both a glass of champagne. Steve quickly took a large gulp to help calm his frazzled nerves. 

Angie grabbed his hand and gave it a tight squeeze, “Thanks again, Steve, and don’t worry we won’t stay that late. I can’t leave sickie home by herself for too long.”

Steve laughed, “God, yeah, a bored Peggy is not a fun Peggy to be around.”

“Don’t I know it,” Angie said as they made their way over to a tall bar table. They chatted and sipped their drinks as they unwound a bit from the red carpet. Steve took the chance to really take in the scene around him. 

The room was absolutely massive. The stage upfront hosted a live band playing some upbeat swing music that got even Steve’s foot tapping. In the center of the room was a huge polished wood dance floor although none of the guests had managed to wander out onto it yet. Dinner tables, all expertly arranged and decorated with elaborate floral centerpieces, took up the rest of the room. Looking around, they must have been some of the last guests to arrive because the room was already fairly packed with gorgeous people all decked out in designer gowns and tuxes. Steve couldn’t believe the insane extravagance of it. This all was just an entirely different world for him. 

Angie paused in their chit chat when something over Steve’s shoulder caught her eye. She gave a huge grin in greeting and a small delicate wave. Steve glanced behind him to see a petite blonde giving an enthusiastic wave back. 

Angie turned back to Steve and groaned, “Great, Beth is here.”

Steve vaguely remembered Angie’s numerous complaints about the complete airhead of a costar she had to work with on her big summer flick a year ago.

Angie knocked back the rest of her champagne before continuing, “If I don’t go say hi, she’ll just come over here. Guess I should start making the rounds anyway. You ready?”

Steve held up a finger as he gulped down the rest of his drink and ran over to get them refills. He handed Angie the new glass, “Ready.”

“I knew I liked you for a reason,” Angie said with a grin.

With Angie’s arm in his, they made their way over to her former costar. Angie artfully steered her way through the conversation and managed to tastefully dismiss herself after exchanging the bare minimum of necessary pleasantries. What followed seemed to be a never ending parade of handshaking and forced smiles as Steve awkwardly hovered by Angie’s side while she charmed everybody she encountered. Though to her credit and much to his dismay, Angie would often try to reel Steve into the conversation. 

This must have been somewhere around the millionth person they’ve talked to tonight and Steve was doing his best to be polite and pay attention but he found himself zoning out from the conversation as Angie discussed her upcoming play. 

Something in the crowd caught his eye. Was that? No way, he must be seeing things. How pathetic could he get…

“Isn’t that right, Steve?” Angie asked turning towards him.

Steve stumbled back into the present, “Sorry, Ang, what was that?”

Angie slipped an arm around his waist and raised her glass towards the man she was speaking to, “I was just telling Dr. Banner here that you were an artist.”

“Oh well, I mean, I’m a tattoo artist,” Steve explained with a shrug. 

Angie nudged him with her hip, “Don’t listen to him, Bruce. Too humble for his own good, just like you. He is absolutely amazing, owns Brooklyn Ink with my Peggy.”

Dr. Banner chuckled dryly, “Ah yes, so you’re that Steve. Pleased to finally meet you,”

“Finally?” Steve asked as he took the offered hand. 

“I’m a friend of Tony’s,” he explained. “He’s been talking you up for months now and I must say your work truly is incredible.”

Steve felt his cheeks warm, “Thank you.”

He continued, “But ever since he started showing that tattoo of yours off, I’ve been forced to see a shirtless Tony far more times than I have ever wanted to.”

“Ahh come on, Brucie baby, you know you loved it.”

Dr. Banner rubbed at his forehead as Tony Stark came walking up behind him, “Speak of the Devil.”

Steve couldn’t help but smile as Tony waltzed up to their group. He gave Angie a charming smile and a quick kiss on the hand, “You look radiant as always, Angela.”

Angie just snickered and gave a dramatic curtsy in response, “Charmed as always, Stark.” 

Then, Tony reached out and clasped Steve on the shoulder, “Rogers, my good man! I can’t believe you’re here in my humble abode. This is perfect!” he said as he pulled Steve in closer under his arm. “See I’ve been brainstorming some ideas…” 

Tony Stark then launched into a hugely detailed description of a tattoo concept that not only defied all physical laws and logic but also bordered on completely deranged. The minutes seemed to drag on forever as Tony described the impossible intricacies of what he wanted. 

Steve’s mind was reeling by the time Tony finished, “So what do you think?”

Steve looked over Angie who looked just as alarmed as him and then over to Dr. Banner who simply looked tired and resigned, “I…I… don’t know about that…”

Stark began to open his mouth and Steve feared another onslaught but thankfully Angie saved them all when she lifted her hand in greeting, “Pepper!” 

Angie rushed forward and gave Pepper Potts a quick hug before dragging her into their little circle. 

“There you are,” Pepper said grabbing Tony’s arm. “Dinner’s going to be served soon so you’ll have to stop terrorizing Steven for now.”

“I resent that,” he answered turning towards his girlfriend. “I’m simply engaging in a delightful conversation with a fellow creative genius.”

Pepper smirked as she brushed off Tony’s lapel, “Well you know how I hate to stand in the way of your genius, dear, but this is in fact our party and we’ve got to go be good hosts right now.”

Tony pouted but dutifully followed Pepper towards the front of the room and Dr. Banner excused himself as well to go find his seat.

Once they were out of ear shot, Angie gave a low quiet whistle and Steve couldn’t help but laugh at his friend very obviously checking out Pepper Potts, who looked amazing in her backless blue evening gown. 

“Mhmm,” Angie said shaking her head and taking another sip of champagne. “I will never understand how Tony Stark managed to land such an absolute knock out. Pepper is way too good for him.” 

Steve just raised an eyebrow at her.

“What?” she said raising a hand defensively. “I’m taken not blind.”

…

Bucky and Sharon took turns casually scanning the room while Ms. Potts gave her speech. They were at a corner table that provided visibility of the whole room and was only a few tables away from where Ms. Potts and Mr. Stark would be seated. The insanity of everybody arriving earlier and having to keep track of their clients while they bounced from guest to guest at an alarming rate had set Bucky completely on edge. Now, though, everybody was settled down at their tables and Bucky could breathe easy for a moment knowing that he could see any potential threats coming from a mile away. 

As he pretended to listen to the speeches being given and kept his eye on the room, he kept briefly stalling every time he scanned past table seven. He kicked himself each time it happened but Bucky was only human and Steve looked fucking mouthwatering in that damn tux.

Bucky noticed Steve practically the second that he arrived at the party and Bucky had been a little dumbstruck upon seeing his friend here of all places. Just his fucking luck. Steve just had to waltz in here looking like that and Bucky couldn’t even so much as say hello because he was on the job. Not to mention Steve came in with Angela Martinelli on his arm. Based off what he remembered from background checks, Martinelli was an esteemed actress and a friend of Ms. Potts. Martinelli also happened to be incredibly attractive and there Steve was looking at her like she was made of god damn sunshine and rainbows and it most definitely did not make Bucky want to punch a wall. 

Now, because he was sad and pathetic, he snuck in looks over at Steve and Martinelli every chance he got. Each time he saw her lean over to whisper in his ear or the two of them share a huge grin like they were the only ones in on a joke it felt like a punch in the gut. He felt like such an idiot for every even thinking that…

A sudden rather forceful squeeze of his hand brought him out of his head and he looked away from Steve to see Sharon smiling at him with her eyes hard and steely. 

“Everything alright, James,” she whispered rather pointedly. 

Bucky nodded and then shook himself out of it. He needed to get a grip, this job was too important for him to screw it up just because he was a love-sick piece of trash. 

He’d been nervous and sloppy all evening but he needed to stop getting in his own way and just remember how to follow his instincts again. Bucky took a deep breath and fell into full on mission mode, something he hadn’t allowed himself to do since before the accident. But, finally, Bucky decided that it was about time he started trusting himself again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, many apologies for how long it took me to update but school is seriously a bitch. Anyway this was supposed to be the final chapter but it started getting to be wayyyyyy long so I decided to just break it up. The semester is ending so I should finally have time to finish this thing up very soon!
> 
> I hope you enjoy! Please consider leaving comments and kudos because they make me squeal in excitement and force me to do all sorts of embarrassing happy dances.


	7. Chapter 7

While Pepper was just wrapping up her speech, Angie leaned in close to him with a smirk and whispered in his ear.

“Don’t look know but there’s a hottie over there that is definitely checking you out.”

Steve felt his checks warm as he wrinkled his brow, “What?”

Angie giggled at him and gestured with her eyes across the room. Steve quickly turned to look and began searching the richly clad people sitting at the tables on the opposite side of the hall but couldn’t find anyone staring in this direction. As he scanned across the table in the corner though, his heart began to pick up its pace. 

His mind was reeling as he stared confused and dumbstruck. Steve blinked but nope Bucky was still there. So he hadn’t just imagined seeing him before! But why the hell was Bucky here of all places? 

His questions were pushed aside though when Steve began to really take in the sight of his friend. And god damn was that a sight. Bucky looked out of this world gorgeous with his hair smoothed back into a neat bun and his face clean shaven. Steve came to the quick conclusion that Bucky should never be allowed to wear a tuxedo because the way that fucking thing hugged the broad curve of his shoulders was making Steve imagine all sorts of awful things. 

After the initially shock, Steve was able to register the whole scene and it was like being suddenly hit in the face with a bucket of water. His stomach twisted up into knots and his throat constricted painfully. Distracted by Bucky, he only now saw his companion, sitting next to Bucky and holding his hand was a stunning blonde in a low-cut red dress that left very little to the imagination. She smiled at Bucky as the couple sat staring intensely into each other’s eyes.  
Steve tore his own eyes away and did his best to swallow down the heart-wrenching pain and disappointment. With a shaking hand, he grabbed the delicate crystal glass in front of him and gulped down the rest of his champagne. 

“Steve?” Angie whispered soft and concerned. 

Luckily, Steve was saved from answering by the thunderous applause that followed the conclusion of Pepper’s speech. Then, an army of smartly dressed waiters flooded out of the kitchen doors carrying the first course. 

Food provided a welcome distraction and he managed to dodge Angie’s worried questions by stuffing his face with an almost reckless abandon. Luckily, by the third course Angie had given up on talking to Steve and instead turned to engage their table companions. Throughout the dinner, Steve very determinedly kept his eyes fixed on the plate in front of him refusing to look back over at Bucky and his date. 

Once dinner started winding down and the band hopped back on stage, Steve lost his distraction. Looking absolutely anywhere else but that table, Steve watched as Tony and Pepper took to the dance floor and the pair were quickly joined by other couples from around the room. The world is an infinitely cruel place, though, and Bucky and his blonde date were some of the first people to make their way there. 

The couple stood pressed tightly together with Bucky’s hand on the small of her back and they moved with an ease and a grace that was entirely foreign to Steve with his skinny clumsy limbs. They flowed together as one on the dance floor, their bodies moving perfectly in time with the slow rhythm of the music. They were like a scene out of movie, one where the hero finally gets the girl and when they meet on the dance floor, everything slows and stills around them until it is just the two of them. They looked great together and Steve felt like a complete idiot. He has no clue what he was doing trying to fool himself these past few months. He must have been seriously delusional to ever think that Bucky could possibly be interested in someone like him. 

Once again feeling sick to his stomach, Steve took another swig of his drink before looking back up. His insides froze as he caught Bucky’s gaze from over his date’s slim shoulder. Those gorgeous steely eyes paused on Steve’s for a moment before glancing by without even so much as a spark of recognition. 

Steve felt completely gutted. It was like everything he was dreading was coming true. Bucky hadn’t spoken to him in days and the reason was beginning to hit Steve like a ton of bricks. Bucky didn’t need him anymore. He has a great job, gorgeous girlfriend, so why the hell would he want to keep Steve around?

Steve looked away and took a deep breath to try and steady himself but it did nothing to settle the feeling that he was seconds away from completely falling apart. Pushing away from the table, Steve got up and hurried out of the hall. 

“Steve!” came Angie’s startled call after him but Steve didn’t even look back as he rushed out of one of the side doors. 

Anger and disappointment broiled together in his gut as he stalked through the hallway and towards the tall glass doors that opened out onto a balcony. Once outside, Steve began sucking in huge lungfulls of fresh air and fought to calm down the racing of his heart. The cold gave him a bit of clarity and he began to feel embarrassed with the way he was acting. Steve had never been the jealous type yet here he was acting like a petulant child when Bucky wasn’t even his to have.

He barely got a moment to himself when the doors behind him flew open and a ticked off Angie joined him. 

“Steven Grant Rogers,” she said as she slammed the balcony door shut. “What on earth has gotten in to you tonight?”

Steve leaned his back against the railing and rubbed at his face, “It’s nothing, Ang. I’m sorry, I’m just being an idiot.”

All the annoyance quickly fell away from Angie’s face and she smiled at him gently as she strode forward and took his hands into hers. 

“You’re usually stupid for a reason, Steve,” she said. “Tell me.”

Steve sighed and told her everything about his crush on Bucky and seeing him here tonight with his date. 

Angie let go of one of his hands so she could reach out and cup his cheek, “Steven, you are one of the most amazing people I have ever met. You are talented, handsome, stupidly brave, and unbelievably kind hearted. Time and time again you put everybody else before yourself and I don’t know if I have ever told you this before but you make me want to be a better person, tough guy.”

Angie let her hand drop down to his shoulder, “You mean the world to me, Steve, and I hate seeing you like this. When are you ever going to see just how much you mean to all of us? You deserve so much, Steve, and it is passed time that you started believing it.” 

Steve hugged Angie, touched by what she said but not entirely sure what she was getting at. He took a deep breath and sighed while clinging onto his friend. The whole evening was weighing him down. 

Straightening up out of the hug he smiled at Angie, “Since when did you become a such a sap?”

Angie grimaced, “It’s all these love stories I’ve been stuck playing in lately and Peggy will never admit it but she just eats the stuff up.”

“Really?” Steve asked with a chuckle. “I don’t really see Peggy buying it.”

“Excuse me, sir, but I just so happen to be quite excellent at delivering a line.”

Angie schooled her features into a melodramatic lovesick expression, “Oh, my love, every time I’m with you my head spins and my heart gets set a light. It’s as if I can feel this connection this force between us drawing us to each other. Like we are somehow inevitable. Like no matter what else may happen I will always find my way back to you. Like...”

Steve reached out and covered her mouth with his hand to put an end to the torture. Angie stopped and Steve could see the mischievous smile in her eyes.

He dropped his hand and smirked at her, “Can we please just go home now, Ang?” 

“Sure thing,” she answered fixing Steve’s bow tie before backing away. Steve heaved a sigh of relief ready to run away from this crazy messed up evening.

…

“Steve!”

Bucky heard the concerned call from across the room and jerked his head around to see Steve rushing out of the hall closely followed by his date. Worry for his friend quickly crept in and clouded out all other issues. Bucky had actually been priding himself on not getting distracted since Sharon confronted him but that intense focus on the job all went completely out the window when he thought his friend might be in trouble.

Sharon looked at him confused when he brought their dance to a screeching halt, “Everything alright, James?”

Bucky glanced back at her and felt a twinge of guilt. Sharon was a fantastic agent and they worked together beautifully once Bucky got his game face on but it’s looking like Bucky’s years of training and experience are utterly useless when it comes to fighting against the urge to look out for Steven Grant Rogers. 

Bucky smiled, staying in character, “Everything is fine. Just need to take a stroll over to the restroom,” he said using their code for going to check on the perimeter.

Sharon nodded but eyed him as he headed off towards the same doors that Steve left through. Entering into the corridor, he walked past the handful of couples milling about in the open or taking advantage of some dark corners after too much booze but Steve and Martinelli were not among them. He rounded the corner of the hallway and ran head first into one of the members of the band. The man in the all-white tux dropped his saxophone case and went tumbling to the floor. Sheet music went flying everywhere in a flurry of white paper.

“Oh man, I am so sorry,” Bucky said quickly dropping to his knees and helping pick up the scattered sheets. He gathered his pile and handed it to the saxophone player before getting back up. He reached down and offered his hand to help the band member get to his feet but the man ignored it and struggled up on his own. With an angry frown, the man dusted himself off and when Bucky reached toward the case to hand it to him he shoved Bucky’s arm away.

“I got it,” he mumbled before grabbing the instrument and storming away. Bucky watched him stomp off feeling a little bad before continuing on his search. Turning the corner, he could just make out two shadowy figures outside on the balcony at the end of the corridor. 

Bucky quietly approached the glass doors leading to the couple outside, unable to fight against his concern and curiosity. As he got closer, he kept off to the side and could see the two standing close together holding hands. He felt his heart sink like a load of bricks when he saw the very intimate way that they stood with Martinelli cupping Steve’s cheek.

Stationing himself with his back against the wall right next to the balcony doors, Bucky was just barely able to make out the words of their conversation. He just wanted to be sure that everything was all right and that Steve wasn’t in trouble. At least that’s what he kept telling himself as he struggled to calm his pounding heart so that he could hear Martinelli’s soft voice over the heavy booming thuds in his chest. Bucky could only make out bits of what Martinelli was saying. 

“my love,” said the soft emotional voice. “every time I’m with you my head spins and my heart gets set a light… this connection…drawing us to each other…”

Bucky swallowed painfully as Martinelli’s words washed over him. A slow kind of pain began creeping into his chest and the darkness of the empty hallway pressed in all around him. He knew he had no right to be listening in on their private conversation but he was frozen to the spot, like a deer caught in the headlights of its fast approaching doom.

Then, Bucky became aware that Martinelli was no longer speaking and panic set in. He practically ran away from the set of double doors, desperate to get out of earshot, because he couldn’t do it. Bucky could not stand there and listen to Steve return her cheesy poetic sentiments. He doubts he’d ever be able to handle that heart break.

He rushed off into the dark halls, blindly walking as his head pounded. Then, just as the panicked pain in his chest began to ebb, guilt and a whole different kind of panic began to sink in. What was he doing? Bucky had a job and he was seriously off chasing after his stupid crush? His head was a fucked up wild tangle of emotions right now. He paused in the empty hallway to pace back and forth as he tried to get himself together. The fuck was he thinking agreeing to take on this job? Bucky should have known he couldn’t handle this crap again not after everything. Before, Bucky would have never been this impulsive…

Bucky halted in his tracks staring at the ground. There, in front of the nondescript door to his side, several scuff marks marred the otherwise perfectly polished floor. Studying the messed up floor, three things occurred to him: 1. Potts ran a tighter ship than any commanding officer that Bucky had ever had 2. Stark and Potts had been prepping for this event for weeks and every inch of this place must have been meticulously cleaned and 3. those distinctive rubber marks could have only been the result of some sort of struggle.

He reached out to find the door locked. Grabbing a firm hold onto the handle, Bucky wrenched it open, breaking the cheap lock and splintering the wood. Inside the small closet was a man tied up on the ground in just his boxers. Cursing, Bucky rushed forward and removed the gag but the man was unconscious. He felt around for a pulse and as he examined the man he recognized him as one of the members of the wait staff. 

Finding a pulse, he urgently began speaking into his comm link as he turned the man over onto his side and cut off his restraints, “This is Alpha-2. Wait staff has been infiltrated. I repeat this is Alpha-2. The wait staff has been infiltrated by an unknown hostile agent. I’m on the southwest side of the building and I found a member of the wait staff, man by the name of Peterson I believe. He was tied up and unconscious and his uniform has been stolen.”

As Bucky quickly left shutting the door behind him, Clint was the first to respond, “Eyes open everybody. We have a hostile target on the loose and he’s going to be moving fast.”

Bucky hurried back towards the main event as he listened to Clint’s instructions.

“We need to locate and contain the threat ASAP. Remember try to keep it quiet. We don’t need a bunch of socialites trampling over each other.”

As he entered the hall, Bucky began rapidly running through the memorized list of faces of all of the hired staff. He scanned the room searching for Ms. Potts and Mr. Stark while keeping an eye out for any unfamiliar faces carrying a silver platter. Protecting the clients though was the priority above all else. Bucky spotted Tony Stark first and when he saw that Sharon was already waltzing with him along the dance floor he thanked his lucky stars again that night that he had her by his side. 

He pushed his way further into the crowded room and the knot inside him loosened up a bit when he spotted Ms. Potts up towards the front of the room talking with some of her guests. 

He headed in the direction when Clint chimed into his ear again, “This is Delta-1 and kitchen is all clear. Target has got to be out on the floor.”

Bucky’s heart picked up a bit as the distance between him and Potts was not closing nearly fast enough. He crossed the room as quickly as he could without drawing too much attention, all the while scanning the faces around him for someone that might be the target. 

Then, not too far away, something catches his eye, not an unfamiliar face but rather a familiar one. There, carrying a shiny silver tray and wearing a slightly rumpled waiter’s uniform, was the saxophone player he’d knocked over when he was chasing after Steve. Things immediately slotted into place and Bucky altered his course without a thought. All those raging thoughts in his headed quieted and there was nothing but this moment right now. He had a job to do and it was that simple. 

Bucky stalked up behind the target and slipped one of the knives he had hidden on him out of its sheath. His guns stayed put in their holsters. A knife was much easier to conceal and greatly minimized any potential civilian casualties. Moving quickly, he rushed next to him and slid an arm around the guy’s waist like they were old pals. The man started and looked at him confused but that expression quickly turned to horror when Bucky firmly pressed the tip of his knife into the space between his ribs. Bucky used the man’s stolen vest to conceal the weapon and he applied just enough pressure so as not to break the skin. 

Bucky gave him a nice big grin before muttering, “You so much as twitch a muscle without my permission and I slide this knife right between your ribs and straight into your lungs.”

The man’s face went pale and Bucky could feel him begin to tremble but he didn’t try to move from the spot. 

“Very good,” Bucky said just loud enough for the two of them to hear. “Now, I think you forgot something back in the kitchen. How about I go help you with that?”

The man gulped as Bucky turned them both back around and began making their way out of the crowded room. Their progress was slow but once they exited through the double doors and into the quiet hallway, Bucky removed the knife and smashed the target into the wall. The serving tray fell to the ground with a huge clatter as Bucky bent the target’s arm back at a rather unnatural angle. 

The man let out a strangled groan as Bucky held him in place with one arm as he spoke into his comm link, “This is Alpha-2. I have the target captured.”

“Nice work, Barnes,” came Clint’s rather impressed reply and Bucky was surprised at the rush of relief. Using his tie, he bound his prisoner’s hands together and proceeded to search him. He pulled the hidden handgun out from the back of the man’s waistband and began frog-marching him towards the kitchen. He allowed himself a little spark of pride. Maybe he did still have it in him. Maybe he didn’t leave everything he had worked his whole life for back on that bloody sand. Sure the whole night had been a mess and the old Bucky would have been embarrassed by his actions but maybe, this time around, a little messy was good.

…

Later that night, Bucky and Clint sat on the floor of Nat’s apartment filling out their reports of the evenings events while Nat lay above them on the couch flipping through some gossip magazine. Luckily, the man that Bucky had apprehended, Killian, was working alone so the party had concluded without any further hiccups. Their interrogations of Killian revealed that he was in fact the person behind the anonymous threats and had actually been a disgruntled former employee of Stark industry. Now, all that remained was the paper work.

Clint tossed his pen down in disgust and leaned back against the couch with a groan. He took a swig of his beer before lamenting to the bottle, “Why oh why did I ever decide to take this job. I mean the benefits are pretty solid but the fucking paperwork makes me want to rip my hair out”

Bucky looked up to glare at his friend, “Ya know what, pal? I’ve been wondering the same thing.”

Clint rolled his head to the side to smirk at him, “What can I say? Misery loves company.”

“Oh, I’ll show you misery,” Bucky muttered as he scratched out the last few sentences of his report. Tossing the papers aside, he hopped to his feet to grab another beer from the fridge. Bucky plopped down on the couch and turned on the TV. He popped open his beer and kicked his feet up onto the coffee table glad that he could finally start to unwind after the fucking whirlwind of a night he just had. 

Nat poked him with her toe, “So, you do know that my opening night is next Friday right?”

“Huh, next Friday? Really?” Bucky said. “Gee, I must have missed the seventeen voicemail messages you left me about the subject.”

Nat shrugged, “I’ve found that with your track record it’s best to be thorough.”

“Anyway,” she continued as she set the magazine down. “I have to get your tickets set aside by tomorrow. So are you going to need one or two tickets?”

“Just the one.”

“Come on, James. What’s more romantic than ballet? You should bring somebody! Like a certain tattoo artist you’ve been crushing on for months maybe?” she said with an obnoxious waggle of her eyebrows.

Bucky clenched his jaw, “Can we please not talk about Steve.”

Clint looked up from his spot on the ground, “Well, shit, that doesn’t sound good. What happened there?”

Bucky rubbed at his face, “I’m just an idiot, okay? And nothing’s going to ever happen between me and Steve.”

“What? Why?” Nat asked. “Did he say something?”

“Not exactly,” Bucky sighed. “I saw him there tonight with his girlfriend.”

He chased that sentence down with a huge gulp of beer. 

“Where?” Clint asked. “At Stark’s party?”

“Yeah.”

Nat sprang up to a sitting position, “Steve, your Steve, was at the Stark party tonight?!”

Bucky looked at her confused, “Yeah. It caught me off guard, too. He was there with his…date.”

“Steve was there??” Nat continued to ask looking stunned. “That party is one of the most exclusive events of the year. I didn’t even get invited and you're telling me that Steve just happened to be there? Who was he with??”

Bucky couldn’t control the grimace that sprang up on his face, “That actress Angela Martinelli.”

Nat’s face froze as she processed what he said and Clint kept looking back and forth between them confused. 

Suddenly, Nat started laughing uncontrollably. A real whole-hearted full belly guffawing that brought tears to her eyes in just a moment and with each passing second Bucky grew angrier and angrier at his friend. 

Furious, Bucky started to get up from the couch ready to storm out, “Well I’m so glad that my love life is so amusing to you.”

Nat calmed down enough to reach out and yank him back down, “Wait, James, no I’m sorry. It’s just, I couldn’t help myself. You’re sure he was there with Angie Martinelli?”

“I had to memorize the guest list, Natasha,” Bucky snapped back. “I’m sure.”

“She is most definitely not Steve’s girlfriend, okay?” Nat said grabbing Bucky’s arm firmly. “Because Angela Martinelli is gay.”

This time Clint started cracking up.

Bucky’s anger faded and he felt his brow wrinkle up in confusion, “What?”

Nat picked up her tossed aside magazine and flipped through the pages before handing it to Bucky. There on the glossy page was a picture of Martinelli walking hand in hand down the street with Steve’s business partner Peggy of all people.

Nat pointed to the picture, “Angela Martinelli has been happily dating her girlfriend for the past six years and you would know that if you bothered to even glance at those ‘trashy’ magazines you mock me for.”

Bucky stared mindlessly at the page still trying to process this information, “So…”

“So,” Nat continued snatching the magazine away and forcing Bucky’s chin up so he met her eyes, “Steve is most definitely not dating Angela and you should do something about that. I think it is about time that you realize that you deserve to be happy, James.”

Nat paused but Bucky was still reeling.

“Listen, I’ve known you your whole life. I know you better than anyone but still I couldn’t do a single fucking thing to help you when you came back broken,” Bucky was a little startled to see the way that tears began to well up in his friend’s eyes. Of course, her voice remained as steely and unwavering as ever, “I was so scared that you maybe lost yourself forever after all the shit you had to go through. But then you met Steve and I could finally start to see flashes of your old self again.”

Nat smiled and brushed his hair back, “I don’t know how but Steve helped put you back together and any guy that can succeed where I failed just might be worthy enough for my best friend.”

It all finally began slotting into place. Nat was right. After all the shit he had to go through, why shouldn’t he get to win every once in a while? Bucky reached out and embraced his friend, “Thanks, Nat.”

Bucky pulled back and looked at Nat and Clint, his two best friends in the world, staring back at him, “But you’re wrong. You helped. You both did. I couldn’t have survived that shit storm without you guys.”

Without another word, Bucky jumped off the couch, grabbed his coat, and headed out the door. Just as he closed the door behind him he could make out Clint telling Nat to put Bucky down for two tickets but he couldn’t stop to think about that. He had to go before this wild courage failed him. With every hurried step Bucky became more and more sure of one thing: whatever else may happen tonight, he was done running away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you think!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! The last chapter! Huge huge thank you for all of the patience and support as I was writing. This is the first big writing project of mine that I have ever actually finished and that means a lot to me. I definitely could not have done it without all of the encouragement from you guys to keep me motivated. Anyway I hope you enjoyed reading about these idiots and their journey as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Steve started awake when he heard the furious pounding on his door. With a groan, he straightened up in the kitchen chair where he had fallen asleep over his sketch book. Sam hadn’t been there for him to talk to when he got home from the party so he had tried getting a little work done to clear his head. Standing, he snapped the sketch book close as the beating on his door continued. 

Steve rubbed at the crick in his neck as he plotted out ways to potentially get away with murder if it was their neighbor Carl complaining about their damn trash barrels again. 

“What?” he growled as he yanked the door open. He was not at all prepared though for who it actually was knocking on his door at three in the morning. 

Bucky stood just outside his apartment looking flushed and wild eyed with his slightly damp hair hanging loose around his face. He was wearing a pair of faded black sweatpants and a tight t-shirt yet somehow he looked just as gorgeous as when Steve had seen him earlier that night.

“Bucky?” Steve asked, his sleepy mind still trying to figure out why Bucky could be banging on his door in the middle of the night. 

Bucky rubbed at his left arm as he searched Steve’s face. Those familiar gray blue eyes looking almost terrified, “Can I come in?”

Steve flung the door open and stepped aside, “Of course! Come in, come in.”

Bucky rushed into Steve’s small living room, his shoulders all hunched in and tense. Steve locked the door behind him as worry for his friend began to sink in. He’s never seen Bucky act like this before and it was beginning to make him anxious.

Steve watched Bucky’s tense and frantic movements as he began to pace Steve’s living room, “What’s wrong, Buck? What happened? Was it a nightmare again?”

“No, I just…” Bucky took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair before trying again. “I just came over to talk.. to ugh… talk to you.”

Steve raised an eye brow expectantly as Bucky stopped his pacing to look at him.

Bucky’s eyes were wide and searching and Steve felt his heart constrict to see his friend’s face so unbelievably soft and unguarded. Then, Bucky collapsed down onto the sofa and put his head in his hands, “Fuck. This was such a bad idea,” he groaned before looking up to meet Steve’s eyes again. “I’m not good at this shit, Steve. It’s just… seeing you there tonight… and everything that happened… and then Nat…”

Steve was tired and with the emotional shit storm he’d been through this evening he couldn’t help but keep the snark out of his voice as he muttered, “Surprised you noticed me at all with that date of yours.”

Bucky looked at him slightly stricken and Steve immediately regretted saying it. He really was happy for Bucky but he was too exhausted to be the supportive friend right now. 

“Notice you?” Bucky exclaimed. “Are you fucking kidding me, Rogers? I almost lost my… wait what date? You mean Sharon??”

The two stared at each other for a moment and then Bucky broke out into a wild fit of giggles. A hysterical peal of laughter that had Steve alarmed for a moment but then as it continued Steve became very close to punching Bucky in his stupid face. He gets his heart broken and then he gets woken up at fucking 3 AM only to be laughed at? 

“Screw you, Barnes,” Steve grumbles before turning away to go lock himself in his room and hopefully forget this awful day ever happened. 

Bucky snaps out of it though and jumps up from the couch to grab Steve’s arm. He turns him around so that there facing each other again, “Stevie, wait, you don’t understand. Sharon was my partner. She works for SHIELD. We were there tonight on a job.”

Steve lost all of his steam. He stared blankly at Bucky as things only began to slowly slot together, “What?”

Bucky took a step closer and Steve became painfully aware of Bucky’s warm hand still clutching onto his wrist. They were only inches apart and Steve felt this pull in his chest like there was some magnetic force trying to draw them together. His heart began to race as he stood locked into place staring into those blue-gray eyes. Bucky glanced down between them to where his hand encircled Steve’s slim wrist and then back up to Steve’s face. The change in his eyes made Steve gulp. They were dark, fierce, determined.

Then, suddenly, Bucky rushed forward and kissed him. Steve’s mind went completely blank. At first the kiss was simply a gentle press of lips, but once Steve’s brain recovered from the shock he reached out to grab fistfuls of his shirt and pulled Bucky in hard against him. The moan that elicited from Bucky made his blood rush south. They began to kiss with abandon. Months of frustration and pining pouring into the heated slide of tongues. Steve’s world narrowed down to the taste of Bucky’s mouth and the warm solid feeling of his body pressed up against him. Steve reached up tangled one hand into that long brown hair while his other hand slid up and under Bucky’s shirt to dig his fingers into the small of his back. 

Bucky wrapped both arms around Steve’s waist and pressed their bodies even closer. Steve broke off their kiss with a strained gasp when he felt something hard press against his hip. 

Bucky looked down at him with huge swollen pupils and a bright blush on his face. 

“Sorry…” he muttered as he loosened his hold on Steve and shifted his hips away from Steve’s. 

Steve frowned at the loss of contact. He lunged forward to go back to being as close as possible. He may have been a little too enthusiastic though because his momentum sent them both toppling down over the arm of the sofa. The pair of them crashed down onto the lumpy cushions in a tangled mess of limbs.

His face now uncomfortably smashed into Bucky’s chest, Steve could feel the jumping rise and fall as Bucky began to giggle. Steve heaved himself up into a more dignified position so he could fix Bucky with a glare. Although a little embarrassed by the graceful tumble, Steve couldn’t help but be a little transfixed by the way Bucky’s whole face had lit up. Cheeks flushed and eyes shining, Bucky looked positively radiant as he stared down at Steve. 

Bucky wriggled a bit beneath him to free his arms and the laughter subsided but those beautiful grey eyes kept shining with joy. Bucky reached up to cup one of Steve’s cheeks and Steve couldn’t help but lean into the touch. 

He searched Steve’s face as he began to gently stroke his thumb across the sharp line of his cheek bones. 

“Steve…” Bucky started before biting his lip as he thought of his next words. Steve found the action unfairly distracting as he waited for Bucky to continue.

He took a deep breath that ghosted across Steve’s skin before trying again, “Steve,” he said, “I’m not really good at this sort of thing and I know this has been a crazy night but I just have to say this now…”

Bucky lifted his other hand up to grab the other side of Steve’s face and fixed him with such an intense gaze that Steve felt shivers go down his spine. 

“Stevie,” he whispered. “I was so lost for so long and after everything that happened, I thought that I would never manage to start putting myself back together again. But then I met that skinny little punk passed out in that dingy alley... and you saved me, Steve.”

Steve couldn’t help but smirk at him, “I know my memory of that night is pretty hazy but I’m pretty sure it was definitely you that did the saving.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, “You know what I mean.”

He paused and took another slow steadying breath, “What I’m really trying to say, Steve, is… I love you.”  
Steve felt his heart explode like fireworks as he closed the small distance between them to kiss Bucky. Love and relationships had never been his forte. All his life he’d always been too guarded, too insecure, and always a bit too wary to ever let somebody in. But right here, right now, with Bucky it was all so simple. Never before had anything felt so right.

Steve pulled away so he could plant a kiss on Bucky’s forehead, “I love you too, jerk.”

Epilogue:

The curtains closed and Bucky and Steve both leapt to their feet and lead the standing ovation. The large red curtains flew open once more and the dancers began filing out to take their bows. One by one they gracefully walked out to receive their share of applause until lastly Nat sauntered out onto the stage bearing her stunningly bright stage smile. Bucky let out a high wolf whistle earning him a jab in the gut from Steve but it was worth it to see that perfect grin slip back to Nat’s trademark smirk for a second. 

They filed out with the rest of the audience and then slipped out of the lobby to go meet Nat backstage. Reaching the door that had Natasha Romanoff emblazoned on it, Bucky excitedly flung the door open. While Clint sorted through the massive pile of flowers, Nat was sitting undoing her shoes when she looked up with a glare. 

Unperturbed Bucky smiled at her, “You were absolutely stunning, Nat!” 

Nat half smiled and stood to great them. Bucky immediately ran up to his best friend and gathered her up into a huge hug. He released her but kept a hold of her hands, “Seriously amazing, love.”

“Wasn’t she?” Clint said, beaming at his girlfriend. 

Nat rolled her eyes at them. Steve then stepped forward to hand her the flowers that they’d brought, “That was an absolutely breathtaking performance, Natasha. Congratulations.”

“Thank you, Steve,” she said as she accepted the flowers and pulled Steve in for a quick hug. 

Steve gave her a quick peck on the cheek, “Peggy and Angie send their apologies that they couldn’t make it but apparently Daisy has an ear infection and hasn’t let them get much sleep lately.” 

“Poor thing,” Natasha said with a grimace.

“Oh and Peggy will have my head if I don’t bug you about RSVP’ing for next Sunday.”

Nat turned to glare at Clint, “I thought I told you to mail that out two weeks ago.”

Clint held his hands up in defense, “Hey! I’m a busy guy and I don’t see why we need to have a birthday party for a one-year-old anyway. It’s not like she’s going to remember any of it.”  
Bucky snorted having had this same exact argument with Steve a few days ago. Steve shot him his own glare while Nat rolled her eyes. 

“I’ll take care of it,” Nat said. “So the company has rented out a club downtown for the wrap party, you two want to join us?”

Bucky met Steve’s eyes and could see the same wary exhaustion in them that he felt. They both hated crowds. 

Steve turned back to Nat, “No thanks. We should really be heading home. Angie’s putting me to work tomorrow on decorations for the party.”

“Good God that sounds awful. Best of luck,” Clint replied.

They said their good byes and Bucky made sure to give Nat one more bone crushing hug before they headed out to find a cab home. 

The whole ride back Bucky sat quietly and listened as Steve eagerly chatter on about Natasha’s performance and how excited he was about giving his goddaughter her birthday present. Bucky found himself beaming at his boyfriend in the back of the cab and wondering again what the hell he ever did to deserve this man. It’d been two years ago, to the date in fact, that he’d met this punk and every day he somehow manages to fall even more in love with him. 

Once they entered the small apartment that they shared, Steve turned to shut and lock the door behind them still rattling on about party plans. When Steve finished, Bucky stepped in close and trapped him up against the door. Steve gulped and Bucky watched transfixed as his pupils swelled up to engulf those blue irises. Bucky slid his arms around his boyfriend’s waist and leaned down to nuzzle in to the crook of Steve’s neck. He inhaled the scent of him as he let his lips ghost against that soft skin. 

“Have I told you yet how great you look tonight?” Bucky whispered into his ear. 

“You may have mentioned it once or twice,” Steve chuckled. 

Bucky leaned back to take in his boyfriend’s slight smirk. He slowly dragged his gaze down his body and slowly back up again savoring the way that the neat lines of Steve’s tux hugged his frame. 

Steve swayed forward and closed the distance between them once more, pressing his warm body up against Bucky’s. Looking up at him, Steve continued with a slight smirk, “Though, in my opinion, I think I’d look a whole lot better out of it.”

Bucky growled and hoisted Steve up so that he was forced to wrap his legs around Bucky’s waist. Steve hated being picked up like this and let out a cry of indignation but Bucky didn’t care. They needed to get to bed now. 

… 

Everywhere he turned was fire and blood. The smoke clawed and scratched at his throat as he choked on every breath. The violent ringing in his ears did nothing to drown out the death cries all around him. Bucky was lost in the chaos with nowhere to run. Then, blinding hot pain tore through his arm and he went crashing down. Lying in the sand he looked up to see a kid emerge from the smoke. He looked so small carrying that huge rifle. He pointed the gun at Bucky’s head with a steady hand. One small chubby finger began to slowly squeeze the trigger…

Bucky jerked awake with a gasp. He wildly looked around until he met those familiar blue eyes staring up at him. Placing a firm hand on his bare chest, Steve reassured him, “It’s alright Bucky. You’re safe. It’s just a dream.” 

Bucky closed his eyes and took deep steadying breaths, working on the relaxation techniques that Sam had taught him. 

Steve kissed his shoulder, “You haven’t had one of those in a while. You okay, Buck?”

With his heart rate returning to normal levels, Bucky opened his eyes and reached out to brush his hand through Steve’s hair.

“I’m okay,” Bucky answered. And he actually meant it. Like Sam has told him a million times, he’ll probably never really escape the ghosts of his past but that doesn’t mean he can’t learn to live with them. 

Steve nodded and snuggled in close. He began tracing the lines of the scars on Bucky’s arm as he drifted off to sleep. 

The music of the city sounds swept in through their window on the summer breeze and Bucky could just begin to feel that cold bite that meant fall was around the corner. Bucky took a moment to look around at the room that they shared and think back to where he was two years ago. Their tuxedos still sat in a crumpled heap at the foot of their bed, hastily discarded in their hurry. Steve’s sketchbooks piled high on the corner desk with Bucky’s own slew of reports carefully filed away in the drawers. He looked at their dark blue walls plastered over with Steve’s drawings and remembered the messy weekend they spent painting the place when they first moved in. Everywhere he looked it was pieces of Steve and him and the life they’d built together. Here right now, in this tiny room, with the man he loved in his arms, Bucky could breathe easy because he was home.


End file.
